


Toil

by CopperRose



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Minecraft, F/M, I don't know a lot about science/history and I apologize for how obvious that is, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8920489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperRose/pseuds/CopperRose
Summary: In Achievement City, the citizens hold many beliefs to be true and none annoy Michael more than the idea that the city's gods like to punish those who dare to make selfish wishes.All he wants is a little bit of excitement in his boring little city. Though perhaps he shouldn't have asked for that in the middle of his atonement.





	1. Atonement

Mortal men and women had many jobs while serving in their earthly realm, many would say they were important jobs, whether it be the shepherd or the carpenter or the priest or the farmer. In Michael's village people were raised from the day they were born to respect each job, to understand that everyone had some manner of a purpose, and that wanting more than your own lot in life was sinful. He himself had the job of a guard, meant to keep safe his small village and the people who lived there. Yet, no matter how he looked at it, the work that mankind did, the work that was always said to be so important, all too often seemed to be little more than meaningless toil.

Michael's duties were to stand watch and wait for something dangerous to approach the village but he normally found himself standing at the same guard post every day without any manner of change. He would admit, sometimes there were wolves to fight off and at least twice they had to kill a few in the last year and in his first year as a guard he had slain a massive brown bear and now proudly wore the beast's pelt as a trophy. Vagabonds and tramps sometimes passed though the village and, though the gods had taught humanity long ago to treat wanderers with kindness, every guard kept mind to watch every one of them closely until they were gone, he was no exception. A merchant or two might also pass though, seeking to sell their wares and the guards watched them as close as they would any stranger. On occasion, neighboring villages would start fights over property or land or just some stupid matter of pride and threats would be made, though, to be honest, Michael had never seen anything come of those threats.

The sad truth was that Michael's largest job was to keep the peace between the people of his own village – keeping the drunkards in check, breaking up fights (most of which started over food or women), looking for children when they wandered a bit too far from home. The redhead couldn't picture his job being anymore pointless as he would when he had to stop a brawl that had started over a loaf of bread or when he would be force to go find the same few boys, hiding in the same spots they had run off to the last time he had been sent out to find them.

"This sucks," he sighed and looked to the sky. For only a moment he let himself wish for something exciting to happen before he realized his mistake and scolded himself for it. "Damn it!" He hissed out loud.

On this day there was a groan from the sidelines. "Again?" The voice demanded, Michael looked to the man who was standing watch with him, Jack. He was a slightly heavy man with a full rust colored beard. "You keep sending your thoughts up there and eventually they're gonna answer you. Go do your repentance while you still can."

The redhead crossed his arms and groaned. "I don't want toooooooooo." He whined, half joking and half serious. "Come on, the gods are not gonna answer any fucking prayers from this shit-hole, we can't even afford to give proper homage to them half the time."

"Do you really want to leave it to chance?" Jack asked, already knowing that he had their conversation won. "The Tricksters don't care if you give an offering; they give just to watch the chaos. Go do your repentance while it's still possible. I can keep watch for the rest of the day."

Michael gave another whine, this time sounding very defeated. "Alright, I'll see you tonight... I hope."

He walked back into the village and looked to the tallest building they had. It was a large, ugly, stone building, the church of their gods.

Michael had never put much thought into whether he even believed in the gods that his people were so certain existed but he knew what happened to non-believers and that didn't interest him. So every time he would make a selfish wish, whether he believed or not, he would shamefully walk to the ugly building and ask the holy ones to forgive his selfish ways and beg them not to answer his prayers. He and anyone else there for the same reason would light a candle and kneel over it, his atonement over only when the wick was completely gone. Thought they were made to burn quick they could still last for hours. This was the way of their people but Michael couldn't help but think it was stupid.

Michael walked in, taking everything in, the symbols and images of the town's gods, the people there to either atone or simply for daily prayer. Clergy men and women paced, speaking with the young and old, some handing over candles, some consoling others, some reading their holy text, some sitting silently in prayer.

Michael debated with himself for just a moment on from who he should ask for a candle but as a man approached him, his decision was made for him. His hair was curly and dark and he adjusted his glasses on his approach.

"Hello, Father Burns." He knew he was supposed to give a small bow or something like that but he wasn't exactly a learned man and also not expected to be so he chose to feign ignorance when it came to matters of the church. "I- uh- I need a candle."

Father Burns eyed Michael and frowned, shaking his head in irritation when he realized it was him. He knew exactly what the boy had done ever without the words being said and moved to get him a candle. He found one and handed it over to him, it was a tall and thick candle, one that was sure to take an at least a few hours to burn through. Father Burns had been giving him larger and larger candles for each atonement he had made over the past year.

"Are you fucking serious?" Michael demanded, just a bit too loud. "You really want me kneeling in here until sun up?"

"The month has only just begun and you've been here to atone twice now." he reminded him. "Sooner or later you will learn not to beg the god for your selfish wants. Now choose your place and go."

Michael looked again around the church, this time ignoring the people. The walls on the inside looked just as bad as the outside but they were at least decorated with the symbols and images of their gods. Tapestries of the Great Father, the Mad One, the Red Lady, the Brewer, and the Trickster hung on the walls. There were other gods but these were the gods that his village believed began creation itself.

He tried to think of each of them, tried to think of who would be best to give him forgiveness.

There was the tapestry of the Great Father. He was supposedly the man who began existence and created all things. He began as an infinite being, all of creation, but he was lonely and in his loneliness he decided to tear pieces of himself away and make something new, something that was not him. From his own being he made a son and a daughter and they were a family that together created everything. Soon their family again felt too small and the Father decided that he would make a third child, the Mad One and the Red Lady could not agree, however, one wanted there new sibling to be fun and playful but the other wanted them to be quick witted and artistic. To appease them both, the Father took the piece of himself he was crafting into his third child and cut it in two. The two pieces then did not need to be shaped for they took shape on their own and became the ones known as the Godly Twins. From there, it's said, that the Twins grew bored of having only their family and asked their father to make them something different, something they could play with. He agreed and with his bare hands he created the world and then mankind and had his children help him craft creation. Eventually he made many other gods and they now dotted the sky as stars and he is believed to be the large sheet of black behind those stars. The tapestry was hung proudly in the front of the church; green stars were his symbol all dotting a black canvas.

Michael wasn't sure how much the god of all creation would empathize with him, besides; he had to be busy and surely didn't need his prayers burdening him.

On the wall to the left of the Father was the First Son or the Mad One. He wasn't always mad, in his youth he was a being of knowledge and curiosity but he could also be cruel. He watched his father make mankind and wanted to understand just how they worked. He would play with them, experiment on them, make strange creatures and force them to fight, just to see which was stronger, and many more things, all for his own pursuit of knowledge and entertainment. His father frowned upon this, seeing mankind as his children as well, and so he punished the First Son. Never again would he every lack knowledge for he would have ever answer to every question he might ever have but he simply would never be able to remember what the questions had been. He could seek those questions until the stars feel out of the sky and longer still but his father promised that they would return only when he repaid mankind for his cruelty. In some vain attempt for freedom, he blessed man with technology and knowledge but in his fractured state of mind his fury broke free and he also cursed man to share in his suffering by giving them just a sliver of his madness and endless curiosity. His symbol was a dark bull though Michael didn't know why a god of knowledge would have a bull as his symbol.

There was something about praying to a mad god that Michael simply didn't find safe. If he was going to bother a god, he at least wanted the god to be sane.

To the right of the Father was the First Daughter or the Red Lady and Michael honestly had no clue why she was called this. In her youth she watched her father and siblings shape mankind but the creatures bored her, so instead she asked to be allowed to make her own creatures to play with. The Father handed over an piece of creation and let her shape her own designs. Her shapes were better than humans, as far as she was concerned, what she made was stronger and fast and greater than a human could ever be. When her sibling wanted her beasts to play along with their humans she grew jealous and made it so man and beast could never speak unless she willed it. Her creations proved to be greater than man in most cases, many appearing to be savage and dangerous. Her father frowned on her creations and warned her that if they could not learn civility, he would have to destroy them. To appease her father she gave her animals the ability to be tamed but made sure they would always keep some shred of instinct in themselves so some part of the wild, and thus her, would stay with them. Her symbol was a red cat.

Michael liked nature and he had prayed to the Red Lady often when he was younger but since he was given a job as a guard, he hadn't felt quite as strongly tied to her as he was before. Something about killing the bear that he now wore made him feel as though she would be offended to receive his prayers.

On either side of the church hung the tapestries of the Twins or, rather, the Brewer and the Trickster. In some stories it's said that the Twins go almost everywhere together and played games as a pair while other stories said that they had been distant from the very start of their creation. They were shapeshifters, that was the same in every story, and would take the form of humans and would happily wander the mortals world. Their forms were never perfect though. The Brewer's form would always be smaller than his brother's, supposedly because the Great Father accidentally cut them unevenly, the Trickster could take any form but he would always have unusually large nose, not cripplingly so but noticeable.

The Trickster stood to the left of the Mad One. As the stories were told, he looked to the Mad One with admiration when he was still young but in time he watch his brother's sanity crumble and watched as the Mad One's curiosities went from fascination to obsession and the games he played with man became cruel and twisted. The Trickster drifted from his brother's play and instead began to make his own games. He walked among the humans in a way the others had never thought to do before and soon they followed suit. His games were in no way kind - he would set fires, destroy something valuable, build something unsightly or unwanted, and steal something precious and hind it away in an odd location. They were all fun and games to him and, in fact, if you could realized who he truly was before he played his trick, he would give you a wish and leave you be, but humans never seemed to get the same glee he would from his games. He decided mankind simply didn't understand what he was feeling so he gave them a gift, the ability to feel a thrill from doing something dangerous or frightening or new or stupid or just plain crazy. Many would also call his greatest gift his most terrible curse. Strangely, though he was reckless and a terrible trouble maker, the Great Father never punished him for his tricks. Many stories saying that he, like any human man, had grown tired after being a father for so long and simply let the Trickster run freely over the human world, others would say the Father simply favored the Trickster more than his first son. His symbol was the face of a Creeper, his most dangerous and hated creation. People paid homage to him more than almost all of the other gods, with the hope that it would keep his pets at bey.

Of all the gods, the Trickster seemed like he was less busy than anyone else but he was also the most chaotic and might grant Michael's unintended wish just because him drew attention to it.

The Brewer, also known to some as the Wanderer, was to the right of the Red Lady. He was said to be the kindest of all the gods, giving more than any of his siblings or even his father. When he was young most of his days were spent beside his cauldron, making one concoction or another. He had been the god to grant humans the power of magic in the form of potions and enchantments and had taught them how to heal their sick by making medicine. Later, once he walked among men, he taught them how to make music and how to create beautiful structures, causing the first temple to be built in the Great Father's honor. In the old tale, he had been at the Trickster's side when he first stepped into the world of mortal men and with wide eyes had followed behind him within seconds. After learning he could walk among them he spent almost every moment traveling along the roads, meeting as many mortals as he could and trying his best to be just as they were but also teaching them kindness as he went. He would travel as an old man or a lost child, sometimes even an injured beast, and would seek help from others. Those who turned him away would be shown his true form and he would leave them, disappointed in them. Those who would help him earned the gift of his knowledge – his magic, his medicine, and his music. In time, it became unwise to turn away a traveler and the Brewer liked it that way. It was believed by some that no one would die with having met him and facing his test at least once. His symbol was a bottle with green liquid inside of it and in all honesty, it was the only symbol that made any since to Michael.

The Brewer seemed like he would answer him with a smile on his face, thought Michael had to wonder if a god of creativity and art could even answer a prayer that would bright nothing but boredom.

His thoughts ended the same way they always did, with him deciding that he wasn't sure he believed in the gods in the first place, why should he care if he offends one of them? He would not go in front of any one tapestry but rather knelt before his candle in the middle of the church, meaning that he was praying to them all and showing that he thought he needed to repent to all of them, before all passers-by. He caught the sight of Father Burns looking rather pleased, perhaps believing he was taking this atonement seriously.

It was a pity he wasn't. He was just aiming to ruin everyone else's day by being an obstacle in the middle of the walk way.

Michael lit his unreasonable large candle with flint and steel before leaning over the open flame. No _wonder_ so many of the damn clergy are blind or going blind, leaning over fire must fuck up your eyesight! He thought with a bit of bitterness.

He began his prayers as he was meant to but in time his mind began to drift. He wondered if he would make it back home before dinner was over. He wondered is Jack would be able to stand guard all day alone. He wondered if Ray, another man who lived with him and Jack, would smuggle any more wheat or fruits on his way home from the fields. He wondered if the gods were real and, if they were, why had they not murdered him for questioning such a thing when he was suppose to be in the middle of prayer. More than anything, though, he wondered why little Achievement City had to be so damn boring.

Michael craved something different, something new. Let the sky go black a day or the earth shake. Let the Red Lady's tamed beasts become wild or the monsters of the Mad One attack. Let the gods wonder through the village as he and others like him did or, hell, let him just find a damn woman to spend his time with. Was that so much to ask; something that wasn't just the soul sucking monotony that was his life?

He probably shouldn't have asked for any of these things but when he realized that his candle's wick had burned away completely, Michael gladly forgot everything he had wished for. The room was dark by now, lit only by candle light, he glanced out a window and could see the black night sky. The church was mostly empty, only men and women of the clergy seemed to be left, most of them silent in prayer.

Michael sighed. He should get back home and see if Jack and Ray had managed to save him any dinner. With his luck, they probably forgot and he'd need to wait until morning for breakfast.

Everything hurt as he stood; it felt like he hadn't moved in ages. He tried to hold in his audible groans but his back and legs were far too stiff for him to be silent. He tried to walk out unnoticed but his legs were half asleep and he was now limping as he went. He couldn't even bright himself stand up completely straight, hunching over from the pain in his back.

God damn, how long had he been kneeling there?

People's eyes were all on him by the time he made it to the exit. He didn't know what the big deal was, he'd limped out of the church before and been far more noisy then he just was. Father Burns looked like he wanted to approach him, perhaps scold him, yet at the same time, he didn't move. Michael decided he wasn't going out of his way for the clergyman, if he wanted something from him, he would walk up to him, because the only place Michael planned to walk was home.

He limped out the doorway and into the night. No one followed him, so he mustn’t have been in trouble.

 


	2. The Wall

Jack didn't like the night, not because the dark frightened him, because it didn't... really. The dark just made him worry sometimes. It made him wonder if the wall would last the night, if the things outside the wall would get in, if there would be enough supplies in the morning to repair the damages the wall was sure to take, but most importantly, he wondered if he could handle all the repairs the wall would need by morning.

He watched the wall from his window, a feeling of dread slowing coming over him. Something was wrong that night, he just wasn't sure what.

"Relax already," a voice ordered from somewhere behind him but the words were said in a kind tone. "You worry to much. You're not the only person in this village who helps rebuild the wall. You have to stop thinking about it so much."

He looked to a man with the slightest of a tan, sitting on the other side of their small house, tending a few small potted plants.

Where did he even find poppies? Jack wondered but chose not to ask. The last thing either of them needed was someone to over hear him asking and getting them both in trouble for his habit. "Ray, could you leave those things alone, I get nervous every time I see you handling them."

"And I get nervous every time you pace around the window, like you're gonna go out there." He looked up from pruning his indoor garden. "You're not a guard anymore, you're carpenter. There are plenty of guys on that wall already."

"They need all the man power they can get but I've been tasked with wall repair!" Jack argued.

"Yeah, because we need carpenters more then we need guards." Ray reminded him, getting up from his poppies. "The stronger the wall is, the safer all of us are and you can't do repairs during the day if you're exhausted from standing watch all night. You're better use to everyone in town where you are. Why do you have to complain about not almost dying every night?"

Jack didn't answer, deciding he was too tired to argue and started towards their bed. They weren't wealthy men, the fact they had a proper bed at all was pretty amazing, but what they did have they had to share, which wasn't so bad when it got cold. The bed had been built for three, which meant it was pretty small for its intended purpose, but with just the two of them it almost felt too big as he laid down.

Ray silently agreed and followed after him.

They laid awake, neither able to sleep, the two of them glancing between the cobble stone walls and wooden ceiling and occasionally to the small poppy farm.

"Ya' know," Ray broke the silence after a few minutes, knowing Jack would still be awake. "I know you don't want to admit it but another person to share the house with might be a good thing."

Jack turned to look at him, he was frowning but wasn't sure if the other man could see this. "Ray..."

"Come on, Kerry's a nice guy! Just give 'em a chance!" He insisted, as he had several times before. "Five guys in one house is just ridiculous and we have room. We're being selfish!"

"We aren't getting a new housemate!" Jack snapped. "He'll come back to us and when he does, we're gonna be here for him!"

Or, at least, Jack hoped they'd still be there. What if Michael stayed as he was forever or out lived the whole village? What if the monsters broke through the wall and killed them all before he woke up?

It had been so long, a whole year now, and he hadn't moved or died, there had to be a reason. Some people thought he was the one who brought the gods' wrath upon them, others thought he pleased them in some way and they took his soul so that he would forever be their playmate or pet. Jack wasn't sure what he believed, he hadn't been sure if he really believed in the gods, all three of them had their doubts, but after it was realized that Michael was frozen in place, everyone was sure they were real.

Of course, shortly thereafter, the monsters began to attack, small attacks at first but they grew in number. Soon, smaller nearby settlements were begging to join Achievement City for protection. It worked for a while, the increase in numbers was keeping them back but soon it was clear that they needed the wall to keep them out. Anyone who knew anything about building things was deemed a carpenter and was given no option, they were no longer allowed any other jobs, their only purpose was to build and then maintain the wall.

Slowly the wall went from wood to stone and maybe soon they might be able to make some bits of the wall iron but the real problem was less to do with the wall and more to do with the people. The clergy thought they could hide it but Jack could see right through them, the population was growing. Achievement City had no more than 200 people before this all began but now there were almost 400 people strong from the surrounding settlements and villages that had joined them and they, of course, were still having children, which meant that in a few years the wall would need to grow or people would need to go.

Ray was right, they were being selfish to keep their home to only the two of them but Jack didn't plan to stop being selfish until the clergy men in charge stopped pretending everything was okay and started ordering people to spread out their space. Hopefully the wall would grow before this happened.

Jack laid there, thinking about the thought of five or six people soon being forced into one home or people being ordered to not have children or, even worse, people being thrown out of the village once population became a problem. He often spent his nights this way.

His thoughts were interrupted by pounding on their door. In an instant, both men were off their bed and grabbing for weapons. Jack's hands found their way to an old stone sword and Ray grabbed hold of his farming tool, a stone hoe. There was a curfew, anyone who was caught breaking it would be arrested on sight and be thrown in a jail cell for a few days. It wasn't likely that there was a monster at their door, not without alarms going off, but it also wasn't likely that there would be a person there either. They approached slowly, becoming more nervous with every step and the pounding at the door becoming more furious with every second.

"Who's there?" Jack demanded.

"'Who's there?' are you fucking serious right now?" The voice boomed from the other side. "Who the fuck do you think it is, you asshole? Open the god damn door, these fuckers keep giving weird ass looks!"

Both the men thought for just a second that their hearts might have stopped and they had joined their old friend in whatever realm he had departed to, they then thought they might have been dreaming. A dozen different thoughts came to mind, most were, by all rights, stupid, but they were still trying to put logic to how this was happening.

The pounding continued. "Guys, seriously, let me in! Did you fuckers put a lock on the door? What the hell? Are you sons-a-bitches trying to kick me out?"

"Hey!" Ray barked back. "Don't talk about Jack's mother like that, she's a lovely lady!"

"God dammit, Ray." A groan came from outside. "Alright, someone's gonna open the door or I'm smashing a window and crawl in that way."

"Alright..." Jack answered, trying to be calm. "Alright, just... give us a second."

The two men shared an unsure look before moving to the door and lifted the heavy piece of wood they used to bar the door. Jack slowly opened the door just a crack and Ray peeked out to see who the owner of the voice really was.

The hesitation drew out a groan and the door was suddenly forced open and the redhead stormed in. He didn't stop to even look at them; he was far too tired for their games that night. He tore his bear skin pelt off of himself and tossed it into a piled of other discarded clothes and began to get ready for bed.

"Michael," both men called out, almost simultaneously, amazement in their voices. They hadn't said the man's name in ages, no one had, it had somehow become almost taboo but now both of them couldn't help themselves. How could they?

"I don't believe it." Ray beamed. Though, in truth, he wanted to believe it more than he wanted the monsters and the wall gone and almost more than he wanted his poppies to bloom.

"Yeah, ha ha, I get it, I'm sure it's very funny." Michael faked a laugh as he dug around in a chest for a night shirt. "Amazing, I know, but I _am_ back before dawn. So, let me guess, Jack bet I wouldn't be back until dawn and Ray probably bet for tomorrow around noon, right?"

"We... what?" Jack questioned, trying to understand. "What are you talking about? You had us all worried! What the hell happened?"

Michael paused for just second before turning to look at him, ready to demand what the fuck he was talking about. It was only then that he realized something was wrong, even in the dark he could see his friends were somehow different; a bit taller maybe, a bit thinner, a bit more haggard. Ray's hair was shorter than the last time he saw him and Jack's beard was definitely longer than before. Both of their faces seemed aged by worry, they weren't forcing themselves to hide smiles like they would when joking with him; the worried faces they wore were real.

Michael didn't know what was happening but he didn't like it.

"You two look like somebody died." He told them, half wondering if that was in fact what had happened. "Look, I went to the church, like you told me, I got my damn candle, like you told me, and I prayed, like you fucking told me. I didn't go anywhere else, so if something happened while I was there, which is bullshit if it did by the way, then I had no part in it."

Jack and Ray exchanged looks, both still very concerned, before looking back at him. "Michael..." Jack started but hesitated.

"It's been over a year!" Ray finished his explanation for him.

The redhead gave them both a look of confused horror for just a second before beginning to shake with laughter. "That was good; you actually got me there for a second. The punch line could have been a little better."

"No, Michael, really," Jack insisted. "You hadn't moved from where you knelt to pray in over a year. We all thought you might have had your soul taken away by the gods."

"That's fucking stupid." Michael informed both of them. "And it's really sad you're still pushing this joke. I'm tired guys, I'm going to bed. You should go to bed also; we both have guard duties tomorrow."

He walked away from them both, attempting to settle in to bed before he was suddenly grabbed and dragged outside. He fought against his grip but Jack manhandled him out the door and Ray followed, not entirely sure how to help or where they were going. They didn't walk far, just a few feet from the house before Michael finally squirmed out of his grip.

"Does that look like a fucking joke to you?" Jack demanded, pointing a finger violently in a direction.

Michael followed his point until he saw it. A wall, a massive stone wall, it was made from cobble stone and was lined with torches and men walked on the top and at the base of it. It definitely hadn't been there the last time Michael looked. Where would they even get so much stone?

"Holy sh-"

"You there," a voice barks from the dark behind him. "What are you all doing out past curfew?"

"Cur- there's a fucking curfew now, too?" Michael demanded, turning quickly to look at the man who was shouting at the three of them.

A blond man dressed in leather armor froze in his tracks at the sight of the red head. In an instant he stabbed his sword into the ground and fell on his knees behind the blade. He didn't look up to meet Michael's eyes. He looked almost like he was praying.

"The gods have returned the Warrior!" He proclaimed for all to hear. "I am at your command."

Michael stood there, not knowing what to do as the man knelt before him, or when other guards began to gather 'round and do the same, or when people began to look out their windows and exit their homes.

"... I'm too tired for this shit!" He announced. "I'm going to bed; I'll do this in the morning."

Slowly the blond stood and saluted him. "Then, on my honor, I shall return by morning's light."

Michael ignored him and marched back inside his old home and laying in there bed, letting out a loud groan. Jack and Ray followed after, bolting the door and clearly a bit more worried than annoyed at that point. They laid down on either side of him.

"So," Ray piped up before anyone could drift off to sleep. "I guess this means Kerry isn't moving in."

Jack gave his own groan. "Shut up, Ray."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did it take me so long to post this? I went back and reedited it the day after I posted the first chapter. Sometimes I don't even get myself.
> 
> So years after writing this I realized that this may have been subconsciously influenced by SNK but it wasn't supposed to be. On a side note, ever since Minecraft added poppies, I haven't been able to get over how much wasted potential there was with that item. Poppies are a way to make opium, so they could let them have an effect in potion making but they still haven't and likely never will. Yeah, all this time later and it still disappoints me. So, you can guess why Ray is growing them if you like.
> 
> Also, I didn't know a hell of a lot about Blaine when I first wrote this, he was just big and muscly so he fit the part. I'm gonna see what I can do with him in future chapters.
> 
> Sorry for typos I SOMEHOW missed.


	3. Politics

Michael was fairly sure he was in Hell the moment the sun's light streamed into their tiny home. The sound of chatter grew louder and louder outside their door until it was a massive roar of sounds. After fighting against himself, Michael sat up at last and looked around. Jack and Ray were nowhere to be seen.

"God dammit," He growled to himself. "Why didn't you assholes wake me up?" He demanded, knowing neither was there to give an answer.

Even if it was true and he had somehow been catatonic for a whole year, Michael did not intend to do nothing all day. He'd likely never hear the end of it from the clergymen about his laziness and he had no interest in atoning ever again.

The red head wondered what guard post he would be put at as he dressed and as he made his way to the door he wondered if he would be allowed to stand watch with Jack as he use to and he was fairly sure he might have wondered something else if not for what he saw when he opened the door. A crowd of people stood, waiting for him, the blond guard he recalled from the night before stood at attention a bit away from the door.

"We've waited for you," the blond guard spoke up, looking proud to just be there. He stabbed his sword into the ground and knelt behind as he did the night before, a number of men followed his action and a number more without swords fell to their knees as well. None of them looked brave enough to look him in the eye. "We are the night guards. We are here to serve."

"Uuuuuh," Michael looked out over the mass of men. "I... I don't... I don't... what the fuck guys?"

He pushed his way out his door and tried to move through the crowd but realized quickly that they weren't going to move easily.

He let out a groan. "Alright, to start, stand the fuck up!" The crowd recoiled for just a moment before they obeyed, standing and, much to Michael's relief, gave him space, forming a circle around the man. "Second, if you're all at my service, then one of you fuckers need to tell me what the hell has happened in the last year!"

An uproar began as dozens of men were offering to give their services all at once. The crowd drew closer to Michael then he cared for and he immediately screamed. Everyone drew back.

He looked through the crowd and found that the only face that was even slightly familiar was blond guard from the night before, which wasn't saying much. "You, Blond, who the fuck are you and what the fuck happened after I froze?"

The guard looked beyond honored. He saluted again and spoke loudly. "I am Blaine Gibson; I was assigned the duty of a night guard when my settlement joined with Achievement City. My settlements and many others like it joined Achievement City when the monsters of the Mad One began to spawn during the nights and began to dwindle our numbers. Shortly after, the wall was build to help keep the monsters out. A lot more politics happened between the leaders of our settlements that I and my fellow night guards were not permitted details to.”

Michael gave a groan. If politics were involved, that meant it was in the hands of the clergymen. He would have to go speak to Father Burns if he wanted any real answers. He weighed his options for only a few seconds before deciding that staying in the dark was worse than returning to the church.

He began to move towards the direction of the church when he noted that the crowd was moving with him. He looked out over them with irritation and glared.

"Didn't you say you're night guards?" He demanded. "Shouldn't you sleep during the day so you have strength at night?"

"Of course," Blaine replied for the whole crowd, seemingly now acting as the only voice that would speak to him. "But we could not ignore the Warrior's awakening."

The Warrior, he had called him that before. Man, that was gonna get old fast, he was sure.

"Go the fuck to bed, all of you!" Michael ordered. "You think I'd rather have you all following me around rather than have well rested soldiers for the night watch! Go to bed, get lost!"

He stormed away as quickly as possible, assuming he would offend at least a few, perhaps an uproar of anger but instead there was an odd uproar of joy. The words "he call us soldiers" were utter once or twice with sheer delight and he realized very quickly, though he still continued away from them, that calling them soldiers meant that they were an army, which was non-sense. This was Achievement City, they didn't have an army. They didn't need an army! Nothing every happened in Achievement City... or, at least, it didn't before.

-BREAK-

Michael felt foolish to even stand in the doorway of the church when he had just paid penitence the night before. Well, sort of, anyways.

He hadn't noticed before how much bigger the church now was. It was twice as large as before, maybe more. Even the glass, which wasn't cheap, was bigger, stained glass now showing the symbols of the five gods. He supposed, with the population growing in size, the church had to expand eventually. A part of him was sure it was the first thing to grow.

With reluctance, Michael stepped though the door and walked though the pews, looking for Father Burns. It didn't take long to see him. He stood in purple robes at the front of the church, looking over his holy book.

Everything in the church stopped as the redhead stepped in. All sound stopped, all eyes were on him. Everyone wondered the same thing, why was he there? To be honest, Michael began to wonder the same thing.

"I do hope you don't need to repent again." Father Burns spoke, looking up from his tome. "I don't think you'll come back this time."

Michael crossed his arms and glared back at him. "I want to know what the hell happened while I was apparently turned to stone for a year. You know, why there's a wall, what's up with the monsters, why the fucking night-watch is practically worshiping the ground I walk on."

If he were to say such things a year before, he might have been put in to the stocks for the rest of his life and that's just for saying it in the church but saying it to a priest, he'd be lucky to survive the night. But things were different now, he knew it, the looks on the faces of church goers told him as much. There wasn't just shock on their faces, there was fear.

Father Burns didn't look offended, as he would have looked a year ago; instead he looked as though he was forcing himself to stay sturdy in from of his congregation. He gestured his hand to a door at the far end of the church, asking Michael to follow him before turning and going to the door.

Michael followed, unsure of what he expected would be on the other side of the door way.

He followed the older man into a small hallway and up a flight of stairs, entering the last room on the second floor. The room was a small living quarter, though Michael was sure it was the largest in the church. A small feather mattress sat at the back of room, a simple writing desk sitting in the light streaming in through the only window the room had, tall candles were scattered all over the room, and a number holy books and history books and books of several other topics were sat in stacks all over the room.

The door shut and finally alone, Father Burns looked at Michael in a way that could best be described as awe.

"How?" He demanded, perhaps a little too eager.

The red head didn't need any more words to know what he was questioning; the problem was that he didn't know the answer or how to tell him as much.

He crossed his arms and thought quickly. "I asked my question first." Hoping he would get his information and be able to go.

Father Burns frowned and sighed reluctantly. "Oh, very well," he said, defeated. "I suppose you deserve an answer before I do, I can't imagine your story will be easier to tell than mine.

"It started the morning after you came to repent. I woke to see that not only was your candle burnt all the way through but you were still sitting there. I was beyond sure that you had simply fallen asleep during your prayers and I was ready to give you another candle. I walked over and gave you a good smack but found you solid as stone. You didn't move or speak or respond in any way. Many of us were sure you were dead.

"You'll be happy to know, maybe, that the two men that shared a home with you were terribly distraught over the whole ordeal. I thought they both might cry at the sight of you. We also put a large deal of effort into trying to move and wake you but our strongest oxen couldn't pull you and our best magic couldn't free you. The whole village mourned you and feared to even touch you for quite some time."

Burns gave an almost pained sigh as he thought back before he continued. "We were about to try chipping away at you with pick axes. It was actually the first night of the project to remove you that the first monsters of the Mad One attacked. The second attempt went much the same. It didn't take a scholar to realize that the gods were protecting you. After that, we aren't sure what happened but we must have offended the gods, for the monsters never went away and only got worse.

"After that, real politics began. Towns, villages, settlements, and vagabonds all come to join us and we had to keep order among the masses. The churches hand had to grow stronger over the people; had to keep the pride of the many factions that were forming in the town at bey. So we put people to work, began assigning jobs, farming, animal husbandry, mining, the building of the wall, defense against the monsters, we separated as many as we could and it seemed to work.

"With one except, that is." Father Burns hesitated, looking to the redhead that was now sitting on his bed, somehow managing to look both interested and bored, all at once. "A faction was formed; a number or people seemed to think there was a new god in the heavens, a warrior."

Michael suddenly felt pale and stiff hearing these words.

No, fuck no!

That's not right or possible. He wasn't a god, only the children of the Father could be gods. This was crazy.

Michael buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Are you fucking serious?" He demanded.

"There were so many of them," Father Burns said, looking as annoyed as Michael was. "Punishing them would have only started war between the faction and the church. So we let them come and pray to you, the blasphemous idle you were, to keep the peace.

"But now that you're awake, you can tell them and the whole of Achievement City what happened while you were cast in stone. We'll hold a sermon and you will-"

"No, no, no, no, no!" The redhead snapped, rising to his feet. "What the fuck do you think I have to say to those fucking people?"

"What happened, of course?"

"What happened? I knelt down to pray and when I opened my eyes I had apparently been kneeling there for a year. That's what happened!"

The holy man frowned at this. "Your faction isn't going to believe that." He paced a bit, trying to think. "If you go out there and tell them this, they may think you're being forced to say it by the church."

Michael groaned again. "Great, great, just great, this is so stupid! Look, I'm back now and that's what's important. I want to get back to my life. You assign people to their jobs now apparently, I'm assuming I'm gonna need to get my job back."

"Absolutely not," He insisted. "If you start working with the guards they could become out of hand all over again. No, we have to find you a job that won't rile them up. Perhaps we I could put you in the church. You could be a-"

"Not fucking happening, I am not working in this fucking place." Michael barked back. "I was a guard since I was old enough to work; that is what I’m good at and if I'm gonna do anything, that's it."

"Mi-" Father Burns began but stopped himself. "You were frozen for a year on the church floor. If that isn't a religious experience, nothing is. It's only natural that you would join the church."

"And yet I'm not."

The two men scowled at each other from either side of the room. It was safe to say they wouldn't be agreeing on anything.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who should be in bed right now? It's me.
> 
> I don't have much to say about this chapter so I'll just leave it and go to bed for now.
> 
> Sorry for typos.


	4. A Hard Days Work

The sun had only just risen when the two men left their bed. They were both clothed and preparing a morning meal for themselves before realizing someone else was in their bed. Michael.

It hadn't been a dream. The night before was real!

Ray and Jack couldn't help but stare in awe of him once more. Their shock didn't last very long before they realized they would be expected to be on time for work regardless of whether or not "the Warrior" had risen. They made mental notes to catch Michael up on what all had happened in his absence after they returned home.

The two made their way out their door and came face to face with an ever growing mob of night guards. The men frowned at all of them but knew they wouldn't be going anywhere, not while their hero was asleep in their home.

Jack cleared his throat and spoke out to them. "He's not awake yet and he probably won't be up for a while. If you're all going to wait here, that's fine, Mic-" He paused. For the most part, these men revered Michael as a god and had treated it as sacrilege to even speak his name, even the people of the cloth had begun refusing to use his name some months ago. Jack had no interest in making enemies or causing an uproar.

So he corrected himself. "He will likely not be happy about you guys being here but you can do what you want. Right now, however, Ray and I need to get to our jobs, so if you could clear a path or two."

To both of their surprise, the crowd gladly moved. There were a few questions about the Warrior as they went but no one stopped them or really bothered them and they both split off to do their duties.

~BREAK~

Ray had been hard at work all morning, tilling the soil for the new set of crops. The old pumpkin and melon vines were gone, it would be a pain to wait for more to grow, but the wheat was already growing strong and turning a brighter shape of green. In time it would be a lovely golden yellow, perfect to harvest. The carrots and potatoes, the other hand, were a bit of a mess. A few pigs had gotten loose from their pin and terrorized their poor crops and made them have to start over from scratch. Ray hated to admit it but he was glad one of the pigs managed to die eating a poison potato.

But that was the past; Ray was an optimist when it came to the farm, especially when he saw a guard approach with a sack over his shoulder. If they were lucky, it would be filled the bones of the fallen skeletons from the night before, which meant bone meal for the farm and, if he could hide a few bone for himself, for his private garden. If they were unlucky, it meant the guards have gathered more seeds for them to add to their already massive collection of seeds. But, hey, at least their children's, children's children would have plenty of seeds.

The gentle rattle of the bag told Ray for sure what it held and he felt almost giddy as it was thrown on the ground and he and his fellow farmers gathered 'round and took a handfuls each. The bones were dry and with just a bit of work were easy to crush into a chalky powered. They all went to work sprinkling it on various plants and watched in delight at the plants grew instantly, as if taking in the monster's magic.

With each dusting of bone meal that each did, they took a moment to thank the Mad One for being kind enough to grant them this gift, it was at this point that Ray took the time to stow away two or three bones in his pockets. Unsurprisingly, either no one caught him or no one cared enough to call him out.

As he worked, Ray felt someone come beside him and join him in his dusting. He glanced to see a blond man slightly shorter than himself; he had a hopeful smile on his face. Ray returned an apologetic face in return.

"Really," the blond demanded, "still? Are seriously even asking him?"

"Look, Kerry, man, I'm sorry." Ray insisted quietly. "I have asked repeatedly but Jack won't go for it... AlsoMichael'skindaback." He tacked on the last bit quickly.

Kerry's face twisted in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?"

Ray returned with a sigh. "I have no idea how or why but Michael just showed up at our door last night. He didn't even know he was gone."

"Holy shit!" He sounded delighted. "That's awesome!"

"Hey, shut up, don't go spreading it around." Ray ordered. "He doesn't even know what all has been going on, we don't need people at our door insisting he's a god. Guy's head'll get to big to fit though the door."

"Oh come on. He could handle being a god gracefully." The blond teased.

"Nah."

~BREAK~

Jack wasn't surprised to see what was left of the wood walls were beginning to fail them. Another assault without repair and a large chuck of the wall would fall for sure.

Stone reinforcements would be placed from morning to dusk with little breaks. Jack silently wished his father hadn't taught him to help with repairing the house when he was younger as he stared enviously at one of the guards.

"Hey, Carpenter?" A guard shouted out, pointing to Jack.

He sighed in aggravation but approached. "God damn it Joel, I'm busy. And for the record, I know you know a thing or two about building, so stop calling me 'Carpenter' as if I don't have an actual name!"

"Whoa, you have no proof of that." He insisted, however quietly.

"Really? Because I remember you being pretty proud about four years ago, you know, when you build the house you're sharing with Adam. Wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it back then." Jack challenged. "Maybe I should remind Father Burns or-

"Alright, alright, there's no need for that." He chimed in quickly, his word having a slight slur to them. "Look, Jack, look, I just wanted to ask you about something. Some of the kids from the night watch were running their mouths when we changed shifts. Saying that M- well, you know, you're old roommate, is back, not stuck in stone. A bunch of them refused to go to bed this morning, said he summoned them to show up in front of your place. Now they've just shown back up, getting into their bunks and saying that 'the Warrior has declared us an army!' What the fuck dude!"

Jack returned an unsure look. "It's true, Mich- he's back, showed up at our place last night, but I don't know anything about this army nonsense... wait, are you drunk? Where the hell did you get alcohol?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Joel whined back, ignoring his question entirely. "Probably gonna go all holier-than-thou on us and try to take charge of the guards, and knowing Burnie, he'll probably just let it happen so a war doesn't start between the church and Mr. Warrior's new army!"

"What, no way!" Jack denied. "Look, he's been gone for a long time but he's exactly the same as he ever was. When he showed up at our house, he didn't even know he was gone! Trust me; he's not gonna go power hungry or anything like that. Hell, last night he didn't even believe he had any power to begin with... but, no seriously, where did you get alcohol, I'll pay-"

"Jack!" I voice demanded from the wall.

He looked and called out an apology before looking back at Joel.

"Look, I have actual work to do. I'm not letting this alcohol thing go though, I mean it. But If you want to know more about Michael, go find him yourself." He told him, though froze as the words fell out of his mouth.

He had to stop himself from using Michael's actual name in public so many times but he had just slipped up and Joel had taken note of it. They were both tense for a few seconds, not knowing what to do until Jack finally moved away and returned to his work. Joel walked away as well, looking around, as if expecting the sky to fall on their heads.

~BREAK~

Michael could live with being stared at but he had to admit, the air of fear that came from the complete strangers gawking at him as he walk through the streets was starting to get to him. He had only wanted to get to know what had changed since he was gone but he felt like he should have just stayed in the house rather than frighten so many people.

The only people that didn't seem to be afraid were the children.

Around noon a few small boys had run up to him, they raised wooden swords to him. "We're gonna to be just like you!" One beamed.

He had to admit, they were pretty damn cute.

Michael reached out his hand to the boy but before he could make contact, a woman ran up and snatched him away. "D-don't bother the man." The woman ordered at once before turning to Michael, though not actually looking at him. "I'm terribly sorry. It won't happen again." She promised before pulling the boy away, the other boys looked disappointed but followed after her.

He frowned. He didn't like this. He couldn't even interact with kids without someone freaking out?

Michael continued to wander until he finally found a fountain, this was new and very wrong. It was clearly made with the gods in mind. It had five stone sculptures sitting at the points of a large star; he guessed it was suppose to be like the children on their father's knee in a way. The bull for the Mad One mouth was open wide, looking like he was laughing, with water flowing out as though it were his laughter. Next to the bull was a scowling face of a creeper, the symbol of the Trickster, water leaked from the creeper's eye, which was strange because very few tales ever showed the Trickster being distressed or mournful. Beside the Trickster was his twin, the Brewer, an open bottle tilted other and water poured from the opening, there was no real emotion tied to it but still made Michael sad in a way. Next was the cat of the Red Lady it looked as though it was leaning forward and letting water flow from the corner of its eyes so that it looked like she was also crying. Finally there was a sculpture that didn't seem like it belonged there, because it didn't belong to the gods of Achievement City. A sword, looking like it was driven into the stone of the star that the four other stood upon. It did not release water, instead a gap made to look like a crack in the star spurted water away from the sword, almost as if it should be the star's blood.

No, it wasn’t just a star, it was the Great Father; it was the blood of the first god.

Michael stood their baffled. To start, how did they managed to build something so unnecessary and clearly expensive with the monsters being a constant threat and second, why would the church ever let anyone make something so insulting to the gods, let alone allow them to put it out where anyone could see

A sigh came from beside him and knocked him out of his own head. He turned to see a tired looking man standing there. His hair was black and short and he wore a curled mustache that Michael was sure he must have been proud of. He had tattoos running up and down both of his arms, a clear sign he hadn't originated in Achievement City; marking one's skin was frowned upon. Some bullshit about "the only marks on the body should be the ones the gods gave you". His clothes looked more like they were for travel then for work, perhaps he had immigrated from far away.

"Sad, isn't it?" The man asked.

"It might be nice," Michael began, "if not for the sword."

"Some people think the Warrior rose to the godly plain," the man said, somehow knowing that Michael didn't entirely understand. "They think he slayed the Great Father and made his children bow before him, that the monsters come at night because the Father is dead and the Warrior is training an army to take the mortal world."

Michael paled at the very thought of any of those things. Was that why the guards were following him around or why they rejoiced when he called them soldiers? No, hell no! He would not let something so stupid stand!

"Some people are fucking stupid!" He insisted. "The _Warrior_ couldn't kill the creator of existence and he wouldn't either, because he's not some asshole who just kills people for no damn reason!"

The man actually looked pleased by his harsh words.

"Most men with swords seem to all have the same beliefs, that the Warrior will cut down the weak and guide the strong to the heavens." He told him with a smile. "It's good to see you aren't all pricks."

Michael had forgotten he had put his sword on his hip, he had simply expected to be on guard duty by this point.

He shrugged. "Nah, pretty sure I'm a prick too."

The two shared a short laugh and Michael got an odd feeling of familiarity. It just felt right to chat and laugh with this complete stranger.

The familiarity then turned to an uneasy feeling.

The red head cleared his throat and spoke. "So, I'm guessing you're not from around here?"

The man's smile grew at the question. "Nope, I'm a traveling merchant by trade. I keep a small home and shop here, leave to gather my good, come back a month or two later, stay with the family for a bit, and going back on the road while they sell the wears. Not an easy life but I don't mind it."

"Just got back then?" He asked and received a small nod. "Cool, so what you sell?"

The man paused for a second, his gaze glancing back and forth, as though worried someone might hear before finally turning to him and quietly telling him. "Just about anything you can't normally get in town."

Michael was now all ears and grinning. He didn't have much money and he didn't know if anything with the currency had changed in the year he was frozen but it was worth a try. "Maybe we should move this conversation?"

The man gave another laugh and gestured for the boy to follow him. Everyone gave them a wide birth as they walked; a fact that Michael took note of but the man guiding him didn't seem to notice.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm up too late again!
> 
> Oddly, I don't have much to say again. Hope you like it. Good night.
> 
> Sorry for typos.


	5. Geoff's General Goods and Trading Post

The merchant certainly was modest, his home wasn't nearly as small as Michael had pictured. It had at least three stories to it and likely an attic, his family likely lived up there and the first floor was for the shop front. The building was tall and made of smooth stone with several windows on the lower and upper floors, meaning their business must bring in a decent amount of money. They were near the edge of the town which was strange. Most of the shops in town were near the center, mostly only small farms and ranches were this far removed from the rest of the city. It made since that a pen was in the back of the building, filled with a number of animal. A small and not so well kept vegetable garden also sat close by.

Michael began to follow the man but stopped when he noticed something, or rather someone. In the pen, working away, his eyes caught the sight of a mess of red hair. Whoever it was, they weren't facing him and instead they were busy shearing a sheep. As the last of its coat was trimmed away, it gave a thankful "baa" before nuzzling the stranger and moving on. The stranger stood with the pile of wool and Michael could now see that she was a woman with unnaturally red hair.

She wore a dress that he was sure she must have been working in for at least a few hours as it was covered in dirt, animal fur, feathers, and hay. The dress was solid black, an odd thing to work in even if it wasn't so warm. She also wore a white apron that had a few large pockets on the front and was accented with a trim of orange around the outer edge of the white. The apron hadn't done her any real good in truth, in fact, it looked almost as if the dirt had taken it as a challenge to ruin her dress, or perhaps the challenge was to herself.

Michael felt an odd smile force it's way onto his face and without thinking he raised his hand and waved to her. She took note of him, however on sight of him she scowled back before averting her gaze and walking out of view.

What the fuck did he do to her?

"You coming?" He heard from inside the building.

Michael called out an apology before rushing inside.

"Welcome to Geoff's General Goods and Trading Post, proudly located in Achievement City, your one stop shop for any and all of your miscellaneous needs." The man spouted out, beaming at how simply his words flowed off his tongue. He had said these words many times before, of this Michael was sure.

The shop front was simply, with shelves covering the walls and the shelves lined with goods. Weapons, tools, armor, some food here and there, and a number of other things but none of it was what the merchant had promised.

The boy frowned at him and it was clear why but the merchant waved him off. "Relax," he insisted, "it's not like I can just keep it all out in the open.”

"Honey, you here?" The man called out and for just a moment Michael grew a feeling of disappointment.

Was the woman with the sheep his wife? She was so much younger than him but that rarely mattered if the dowry was right. That must have been why she reacted the way she did, it was, after all, highly inappropriate to flirt with a married woman. He'd be lucky if she didn't slap him the moment she came inside.

Lost in thought he didn't notice the woman coming in until it was too late. A gasp was let out and he felt someone wrap their arms around him. "Michael!" He knew the voice.

There stood an old friend, a woman named Griffon. Her hair was still the shade of blond he remembered, now pulled back into a pony tail. The woman had always been a rebel by Achievement City standards, acquiring a number of tattoos on her arms and knuckles when she was still young but now she had even more and a piercing through her nose.

_How has she not be run out of town?_ Michael wondered.

"Griffon!" He moved to hug her back but noticed something he had missed. "Holy shit, you're pregnant?!"

She pulled back and turned to the side. "Is it that noticeable?" She asked, rubbing her hand over the sizable bump.

"You look like you swallowed a watermelon whole!" He barked back. "Of course it's fucking noticeable!"

She winced a bit and suddenly the merchant was beside her, rubbing her stomach as well. "But it's a beautiful watermelon, that's going to be an adorable baby girl in a few months."

Griffon rolled her eyes. "You don't know that." She insisted. "It might be a boy or twins or-"

"Nope, one beautiful blond girl, just like her mother." He said again, kissing her on the cheek.

"Oh, Geoff, you hopeless romantic, you." The words sounded sarcastic but still loving.

Michael couldn't help but smile. The last time he had seen Griffon, she had been leaving Achievement City, going off to find some excitement but promised she would be back. That was no more than five months before he was frozen. Now she was not only back but marked more than ever, married to a traveling merchant, and pregnant with his child. She owed him a bit of an explanation later.

"Anyway," Griffon spoke up, "I can see business is being done but later, Michael, we need to have chat about _you know what_."

The merchant, Geoff she had said, smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Keeping secrets?"

"Only from you," she teased. "But don't you worry; we just have to get caught back up. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a dress to pick up."

"I wish you'd take one of the kids with you," Geoff insisted. "Hell, even Gavin."

"They have work to do." She waved his words off, clearly not having any of it.

"Be safe." He ordered as she walked out the door with nothing more than a wave.

Griffon was tough, always had been, she would always be back, safe and sound. Michael was sure of that.

"Never met a woman quite like her before," Geoff said, almost dreamily, "and you meet quite a few when you travel. She might as well be a goddess."

"Definitely has the bite it would take." Michael agreed. They stood quietly, just admiring the woman before he remembered why he was there. "So, where you hide your... goods?"

Geoff smiled, also remembering why he had brought the boy there to begin with. "Right this way."

The merchant moved to a room behind the shop's counter, it was stocked full of certain goods that he would never expect to get a hold of around Achievement City; sugar cane, blocks of red clay, a few exotic looking cats in cages, he even had a cactus. Michael had never seen so many rare things in one place but it didn't change the fact that they weren't exactly what the man had been hinting at.

The red head held back his frown and looked to his guide.

For his part, Geoff had his arms cross and was scowling around the room as if something were missing. "Are you fucking serious?!" He demanded the open air, as though it might respond.

He marched over to an oak cupboard sitting in the corner of the room. He throw the doors open but then pushed at the back of the furnishing, Michael gawked as the wall was pushed open and light shined passed the merchant. "Ryan!" He barked into the cupboard, his words making an echo, which only served to confuse Michael more. "Ryan, I know you're down there! Get your ass up here and get to the front of the shop!"

The sound of footstep echoed from the cupboard and in time a man with dark blond hair ascended as though he were climb stairs. The man, who Michael assumed was Ryan, was dressed well, though it wasn't a fashion the boy was familiar with. He wore a black jacket that was in better condition than Michael thought clothes had any right to be in, his shoes made a gentle clacking noise as he walked and he was sure they must have been worth more than the house Michael lived in and finally he wore a plaid... skirt? Did men wear skirts where he was from? It barely went passed his knees!

The red head had to bite his tongue and fight the urge to laugh at the sight of him.

"Geoff!" Ryan spoke up, sounding delighted. "You're back, it's been so long. When did you get here?"

"Not long ago," Geoff replied dryly. "Just in time to see you  _not_ doing your job in the front. Again!"

The man had a sheepish look on his face. "Oh come  _on_ , there are four other people in this house. Any one of them can take care or the front, I'm making actual products down there." He insisted. "If it makes you feel better, I'll go find Griffon and-"

"Griffon is nearly six months pregnant and she just went out to the market." Geoff said coldly.

"Seems a bit silly, going to our compati-"

"Don't change the subject!"

"Fine!" Ryan groaned back. "I'll go get Lindsay-"

"She has her job, you have yours!"

Ryan was now scowling as well. "Yeah? Well I don't see much being done by your  _golden twins!_ How 'bout I get them?"

"You really want Gavin behind the counter?" Ryan froze to the question. "Didn't think so. And we both know if one them is manning the front, the other will be hanging around and causing trouble. So get your ass out there and maybe I'll take over for you later."

Ryan said nothing else, simply walked passed them both and took his place as he was ordered.

Michael wondered what he was to Geoff for the two to get along so poorly or who any of the people he mentioned were for that matter. The words "your golden twins" implied that they were his children, likely thirteen or older for him to suggest one of them could take the shop front or perhaps not, since Geoff implied that they shouldn't be trusted with the duty. Then there was someone by the name Lindsay, perhaps the woman in the back, what would she be to Geoff though, or Ryan for that matter?

Michael tried to force the thought out of his mind when he saw Geoff move into the cupboard and assumed he should follow. Someone had put a lot of work into making this building look like everything valuable was on upper floor; this was something Michael realized instantly as they went down. The wooden floor was reinforced with stone only a bit below it and pillars of stone helped keep the floor above stable.

In this large room below the shop sat the real goods he was hoping for at last. The smell of fermenting fruit and wheat filled his nose and Michael was sure he was in heaven. Vats sat in the middle of the room, likely filled with liquor, and near the walls were crates filled with other things that could likely get this man killed or worse by the authorities.

"Sorry you had to see that up there." Geoff finally spoke. "Ryan and I have been butting heads for a long while now. He causes me all sorts of trouble but he's part of the family and the business, like it or not."

Michael nodded back.

They were related. Through marriage maybe? Maybe a nephew or a cousin or even a younger brother. Though he still didn't know why he cared so much. A shop keep and his family, the only one of them that should have mattered to him at all was Griffon. Who cares about the rest of them?

"With that unpleasantness aside, what's you poison?" Geoff asked with a grin. "Alcohol? Tobacco? Poppies? Maybe some cocoa beans?"

Cocoa beans? Michael's mouth almost began to water, suddenly felling like he was five again. He hadn't tasted chocolate in years. It had been imported years ago from a far off jungle but trade agreements went sour at some point, likely from disagreements involving the gods of the people who had provided them. It was considered a crime to bring cocoa beans in after that, claiming that they would be aiding a godless people.

He had to focus, there would be time for chocolate later, tobacco didn't interest him, and he had no clue why he had even been offered flowers. Right now he was on a mission for the strongest booze he could find.

He could remember when he was just coming of age and his parents would allow him and his brothers to drink with him in secret. He had enjoyed it but it was few and far between and not a very social thing. Being caught would put everyone involved in danger, put in prison for who knows how long or worse depending on how much alcohol or other contraband they might find.

Thinking back, his mother and father were a bit irresponsible to let him start drinking at all.

"Alcohol," Michael answered simply, forcing those old memories aside. "What's your price?"

Geoff looked pleased. "A man who knows what he wants, I like that. The real question is what type you're looking for, though." He strolled over to a barrel and patted it slightly. "This is called chicha, got it along my travels, it's not very strong and you my not care for the taste and I won't feel right telling you how it's made but it's really fucking cheap."

Michael was a bit curious but he didn't want a drink that made him worried about how it was made. "I'm not that desperate."

He nodded and moved to another barrel. "This is hard cider, tasted find if you like apples, a-"

"Whiskey, wine, moonshine," the redhead insisted over him, "I want to get drunk and need enough for three people.”

"Getting friends involved," Geoff didn't look insulted; he actually looked pleased in a way. "That's fine but if anyone asks you didn't get anything from me. We clear."

Michael nodded and the merchant moved to find what his customer had asked for.

"How has the church not busted you yet?" He asked without thinking.

He earned a laugh and the mustached man continued to grin as he dug through a crate. "You really think the church is full of a bunch of pure men?" He was snickering at the question. "Most of my profit comes from those men of the cloth. Honestly, biggest bunch of drunks I've ever seen in my life. Well, them and any of the guards."

"No fucking way." Michael couldn't believe him. Surely he was kidding. "... Really?"

"Oh yeah," Geoff looked pleased with himself, "funny, when you hold the law in your hands, it's pretty easy to break it and get away with it without anyone noticing."

He tried to think who in the clergy might take such a risk. Someone with the most power or someone so low in the rank that no one pays them any mind. Though, the merchant's claim implied that more than just a few bought goods from him.

"Here we are." Geoff chimed as he unearthed a descent sized bottle made of dark green glass. "Some damn good wine. Six silver and it's yours."

"Done!" Michael barked out, there was no way he would let an offer like that pass him by. He dug into his bag and pulled out a small sack of coins.

Suddenly the sound of the cupboard doors above them being thrown open echoed down the stairs and Michael felt like he was paralyzed, as if he was immediately being busted. His mind was eased quickly, though, as he watched a lovely rush of red hair dart into the room and directly to Geoff.

The woman from the pen was now wrapping her arms around Geoff, a smile spread wide across her face. Mud was still caked on her dress, which she was now sharing it with him, though it didn't look like he minded. He returned her embrace with a kind smile.

"Father!" She said, almost sounding like she would start to cry. "I've missed you so much, I hate that you always have to go away for so long!"

"I know, Lindsay," Geoff sighed mournfully. He patted her back and gave her a loving look, "but I know you're strong enough to handle it. Remember, you have Ryan and the twins and Griffon and your animals and you're going to have little sister soon, too. You're not alone."

She let out a small sigh and hugged him tighter.

Michael, for his part, stood there awkwardly. It wasn't right to interrupt them and he was sure that it wasn't right for him to hear any of these things but he also hadn't yet gotten what he had come there for. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his heels and waited for their reunion to end.

It took a few seconds for the two of them to realize they weren't alone. Lindsay's flicked over to Michael and she tore herself away from Geoff. Her face was stiff again, like when he had waved to her earlier. She turned her face away and moved to exit the room.

"You're with a customer, my mistake," she said apologetically, "I'll come back later."

She marched up the stairs and Michael felt sorry to even be there.

After she was gone Geoff let out another sigh. "Don't mind her," he insisted, "from what I've been told; married women get prickly after a while. Hasn't happened with Griffon yet, of course, but Lindsay hasn't been the same since she and he husband started fighting."

For the second time that day, Michael felt a surge of disappointment relating to this strange woman course through him but even then he couldn't understand why.

Married, that figured. Of course it did, she was beautiful and the perfect age to get married and start having children of her own. And it wasn't like he would have had a shot with her anyway. She was a merchant's daughter, a fairly wealthy merchant at that, and while Geoff didn't seem like a snob he still had more than Michael was likely to ever have and was sure to want those things for his daughter. He probably wouldn't even be able to pay a dowry for a woman like her anyway.

He waved the thought aside. "It's fine, she's fine, I was interrupting you two."

Geoff tried to protest this but Michael quickly reached into his small pouch of coin and brought out six pieces of silver. It was clear the conversation was over, they were both uncomfortable now and simply wanted to get the exchange over with.

The merchant accepted the coins and pack the bottle away in a leather pouch. "Don't let anyone see it in the street." He warned.

Michael nodded and made his way up the stairs, Geoff watching him go.

He reemerged in time to see Lindsay receive a small peck on the check from the man behind the counter before she stormed away, looking irritated. He shrugged as she left.

Geoff had said he was family. Now it made a lot more sense.

Michael walked out, ignoring Ryan's half attempt to sound pleasant by saying "Hope you come again".

He went straight home. What else was there to do?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned! And, oh look, story is happening! Also Griffon, because she's amazing and you should always welcome a chainsaw wielding goddess into your fantasy stories. (Note that I have no plans as of yet to make Griffon a chainsaw wielding goddess in this story. Yet.)
> 
> So interesting fact about chicha, it was originally made by having women chew corn, which they would then spit out, and what was spit out would then be brewed. I learned about that from a friend who knew far too much about alcohol. So I decided that if I had to remember that disgusting fact forever, so does everyone else.
> 
> Sorry for typos, I really am trying very hard to destroy them.


	6. Fun in the Fountain

It was nearly dark when Jack and Ray dragged themselves through the doorway of their home. Their day had been long and exhausting, just as every other day was. Not to mention, the night before had made work that much harder.

Word of Michael’s resurrection had circled through the town and people flocked to both Jack and Ray, demanding to know if it was true, if he had said anything about the next world or the gods, when his conquest would begin. It was terrifying trying to explain that he had said nothing to either of them but still they followed the two all over town.

In a desperate attempt to send them away before they finally got back home, where he assumed Michael would still be, Jack call out to them. “We aren’t warriors or soldiers or even guards, we’re a farmer and a carpenter. Why would he talk to us about any of his plans for conquest?”

This seemed to please many of them and the two finally gave them the slip just as night was falling.

The two looked to their bed, where Michael had been sprawled, looking ready to stab something. At the sound of their entrance he shot up in an instant. He looked both pleased and annoyed.

“Where the fuck have both of you been?” He demanded.

“We were working,” Jack replied dryly.

“Idiot!” Ray added, faking anger.

“Why,” Jack gave him a curious look. “What have you been doing?”

“Wondering the town, visited a shop, realizing almost everyone is seconds away from pissing themselves when I’m around,” he rambled off a list, as though his day was uneventful. “Oh, and, you know, found out a chunk of the fucking town thinks I’m a god! How exactly could that not come up last night?”

Both men stood there in an awkward silence.

“Well...” Jack hesitated.

“If it were true, we didn’t want to offend you by asking.” Ray finished what Jack was surely thinking.

“What?” Michael demanded. “'If it were true', are you fucking serious?”

“Hey,” Jack snapped. “Self preservation is never a bad thing when the gods are involved!”

The red head gave a grunt of disapproval but said no more.

Another uneasy silence filled the room and the men became a triangle as Ray moved to check on his small garden and Jack moved and began to dig through a chest just below a widow, looking out at the wall every few seconds.

Michael stayed on the bed, waiting for one of them to say...  _something!_

At last Jack pulled a sack out of the chest and chucked some of its contents at Michael. He was surprised, of course, but caught it easily enough. He looked down at a loaf of bread, an apple, and a water skin that had been thrown at him. It was then that he realized that he hadn’t eaten anything all day or the night before, for that matter.

He bit into the bread furiously, feeling almost like a starving beast. Like the bear he wore as a cloak.

_It had only been seeking food when it was killed, yet still-_

Wait, what? No, why had he thought that? What the hell did he care, it was a bear, it had killed a pig and was in the middle of eating it when they showed up to kill it. The bear got what it deserved!

_The bear was so hungry, so small, he wasn't even fully grown yet. He did only what was needed to survive, just as you would. You are as much that bear as the bear is you._

Michael suddenly stopped eating. The voice, it was inside his head but it definitely wasn’t his, not the voice he thought in. This voice was different, softer, sad in a way, angry but somehow forgiving, feminine.

_Do you know me?_ The voice asked him, aware of his concerns.  _You did once. You loved me once. Who am I?_

“Michael?” A voice from outside his mind called out to him and pulled him into reality. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m cool.” He insisted. “Uh, look, I have something for you guys.” He said as he grabbed his leather pouch and opened it up. “But you’ve got to be quiet about it.”

Both men were intrigued.

Michael pulled out the dark green bottle he had bought earlier that day. “Check it out, real wine.”

Jack look excited, then concerned, then nervous. He looked to the door and then the windows. It was close enough to night time he must have decided (or perhaps he didn’t care about the time) because he quickly moved to bolt the door shut and closed each shutter. When he was done shutting everything, being quiet and careful not to drawing attention to themselves, he turned back to Michael.

“Where the hell did you even get that?” He demanded, though his voice was barely more than a whisper. “It hasn’t been 24 hours yet and you’ve already got contraband... did a guard give you that?”

Michael paused and thought about the question. “Do you think they would? That would be awesome!”

“Michael, don’t you want people to stop thinking you’re a god?” Ray asked from the corner.

He gave a disapproving grunt. “Yeah, you’re right. Don’t want to encourage them.”

Ray stood and strolled over to the bed. He took the bottle from his hands without a word and examined the bottom and gave a small laugh.

“Hey,” Michael said, a bit annoyed that the bottle had been snatched away.

“You met Geoff!” Ray sounded delighted.

Michael looked at him in surprised. How could he now that? Ray answered quickly by showing him the bottom of the bottle where a large letter G was molded into the glass. This merchant even made his own bottles? How rich must this man be?

Ray continued. “Awesome guy with a weird sorta family; can’t figure out how to keep a farm worth a damn, so he pays me to grow poppies for him.”

“Is that why you have those damn things?!” Jack demanded.

He gave a shrug. “Hey, it helps pay taxes and buy food, what's the big deal?”

"Okay, what the hell is with those flowers and why are they apparently contraband?" The red head barked.

"They're poppies," Jack answered but the dull look Michael returned to him made him sigh. "Poppies can be turned into opium. It got popular after your incident and the church put their foot down and banded the stuff." Jack then turned and glared at Ray. "So, of course, someone had to start growing them in our home."

"Would you rather I grow them outside?"

The two exchanged looks and might have even started to bicker had Michael not cleared his throat and glared at them. "I spent six silver on this bottle, sit and have a drink with me."

"Not into alcohol." Ray reminded.

The red head sighed, remembering this. "Fine, Jack? Don't make me drink alone."

Jack had a thoughtful look, almost worried but the sight of the wine was too tempting and so he sat beside him accepting the offer.

He took the bottle and was ready to take a drink before he paused a looked at Michael. "I swear, if you somehow turn out to actually be a god and this is just you tempting me, I will never forgive you."

He rolled his eyes and laughed at the thought. "Yeah, right, I'm totally a god! Went up there and banged with the Red Lady and everything!"

Both of his friends snickered a bit but Michael quietly wondered where the thought had come from. It wasn't like he made it a habit to think lustful thought of the gods! And why the Red Lady for that matter?

Jack took a small drink, savoring the taste before handing the bottle back. The exchange of the bottle went on for a short while, starting quiet but growing loader over time as they reminisced on old times before Michael froze in time and spoke of things that had happened in the year they weren't together. Until at last they spoke of the present, of just that day.

"Griffon is back in town," Michael told them gleefully, "and she's fucking pregnant! Did you two know that?"

"Duh," Ray said, the only sober person left in the house at that point. "I see Geoff every time I deliver my goods. It's hard not seeing Griffon along the way. Especially with the rate she's growing."

"Ray," Jack scolded. "You don't make fat jokes about a pregnant woman!"

The red head laughed at the exchange. "Yeah but he's not wrong. She's huge!"

"You two better hope I don't see her," Jack warned, "or I'm gonna tell her you're calling her fat."

The small house filled with laughter and stayed pleasantly abuzz.

~BREAK~

Jack debated with himself on whether or not the night of fun with his old friend had been worth the hangover and exhaustion he felt when the morning's light hit him. He couldn't deny how much he resented the fact that Michael, apparently being forbidden to take up his old post, didn't have to wake up and go off to work as he and Ray did. That in mind, he made it a point to smack him awake as he and Ray got up.

"Seriously," he demanded, "and even after I was such a great friend and bought us wine."

"Shhh!" Jack practically hiss. "Don't talk about that shit during the day time!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Michael grumbled, rolling over to go back to bed.

Ray then gave him another hit. "Yo, dude, make yourself useful during the day and take this box to Geoff's place, since you know where it is. Just tell him that they're from Ray, tell him we live together if you have to. Just make sure you talk to Geoff and not that asshole Ryan, he'll try to send you away or low ball you on the price. 30 silver for the lot, no less, but the starting price is 50. Try to haggle."

He gave a grunt of acknowledgment, trying to drift back off.

"Don't sleep all day!" Ray practically shouted directly next to his head.

Michael jutted up, looking ready to punch the man but he was already marching away and looking triumphant.

With a defeated sigh he was up. "I guess I should try to find someone who'll give me a job anyway."

"Ask Geoff," Ray called back as he followed Jack out the door. "He's cool like that."

He scoffed at the thought. What could he do for a merchant? He wasn't exactly the most charismatic person in the town, so manning the front seemed like a poor choice. Though his presence might bring more guards in, which could be good for Geoff's business.

After a bit, he was up and dressed, shoving Ray's contraband in a bag before going out, and was ready to go to the other side of town. That is, until he left his home and crowd much like the morning before. The blond guard, Blaine, was there at the front to salute him yet again. They all looked eager to hear him speak.

"Really?" Michael demanded. "I really don't want to wake up to this every morning!"

The crowd drew back at this but didn't dissipate.

He sighed. "Blaine, right?" He turned to him, currently the only one whose name he knew. The man simply gave an enthusiastic nod. "Great, why are you fucks here and not  _sleeping!_ You know, like I told you to do yesterday."

He looked behind him at his fellow guards before speaking. "There's so much to discuss, so much we have to ask you."

Michael gritted his teeth. He had a box of contraband under his god damn arm, he really wasn't in the mood for this! "If I have something to say to the lot of you, I'd tell you I had something to say!"

They began to exchange looks and whispers, which only served to worry him. He remembered Father Burns saying that the guards might try to grow hostel if they thought he was being forcefully silenced by the church. He was going to need to us a bit of tact on this, for the village's sake.

He took a deep breath and sighed. "Look, I get that you all want to be around me and want to hear what I have to say but I've only been back a day. There are things I need to catch up on, people I haven't seen but would like to, information that I feel like I've yet to get about my absence. When I'm ready to talk to you people about something, I'll find one of you and ask you to gather. The cloth is going to get worried if they see you outside my door every day and you guys aren't in a position to fight them, even if I did want you to."

The crowd was locked on him, their excitement could be felt, almost like it as bubbling and desperate to get free. God, these guy were going to start causing chaos in a no time, he could feel it.

_I know, it's gonna be a great show!_ A voice that was certainly not his popped into his mind, this one not the same as the night before. Where did these damn things keep coming from?!

_You don't know? Oh, come on Lad, think about it and you'll remember!_

Oh my god, get out of my head!

"Now," Michael continued, with a bit of difficulty, "there's an old friend that I would like to see. So excuse me."

They moved and let him pass through them but he could feel their eyes still glued to him. Would they try to follow him? Fuck!

"And go to bed!" He barked over his shoulder. "I want you idiots all well rested and ready to fight from now on! From now on, if even one of you dies to the Mad One's monsters because your tired then it's everyone's fault!"

The skittering of their footsteps filled the air, he didn't have to look back to know that they were retreating, likely to their bunks. He felt both worried and proud of the fact that he could send them running with a simple command. This was going to get out of hand, he could feel it.

_Nah._

Fuck you  _voice_ !

~BREAK~

Michael should have been a nervous wreck. Going down the street with contraband under his arm was probably the dumbest thing he'd ever done in all his years in Achievement City. And yet, he still managed to let his mind wander when the sight of that disgraceful fountain where he had met Geoff grew into view.

It was not so much the fountain itself that distracted him but rather what was in it. A short, ragged man was standing in the splashing water. From a distance he could make out that he was holding glass bottles, filling them with the streams of water coming from the statues on the fountain. He was barely dressed, wearing his button-up shirt wide open and the legs of his pants were tattered and being kept up only be the virtue of a rope he was using as a belt.

More importantly, though, no one was even paying him any mind.

Why was no one doing anything about what should have been an offensive display? Even if the fountain was a disgrace to the gods, it was still a monument to the gods and this man, who was clearly some kind of tramp, was using it to get drinking water. He must have been drunk or stupid to be doing this and yet none of the guards were apprehending him, no one was shielding their eyes or looking embarrassed or ashamed, not even the children on the street were gawking at him. Was he really the only person who gave a fuck that he was doing this?

"What the fuck are you doing?" Michael demanded. Maybe if he grew attention to it then people might give a fuck.

"Gathering ingredients, of course." He answered, almost teasingly as he filled the bottle with the tears streaming from the creeper statue. “Wanna help? It'll be just like old times; gathering star light and blaze powder. Come on, the water's not too bad. A little chilly but it'll warm up by noon.”

This man was fucking nuts!

"I'm not getting in a fucking fountain with you, you lunatic!" He barked back. "Cut that shit out, there are kids running around and they don't need to see your crazy ass dishonoring the gods."

He laughed was deep but still somehow playfully, one that could almost force a smile to his face. "Well, no one really minded until you drew attention to it."

"Well, they should have. Look at how you're dressed! Those pants are barely staying up."

The tramp looked down at his clothes before shrugging. “Who needs nice clothes when you're gathering the ingredients needed to save a god?”

What the hell was that suppose to mean?

"I- wha- you really are fucking crazy!” Michael refused to let himself get tongue tied in response to that. “Get the hell out of there before I remove you, you cr-”

"Uh- excuse me?" An almost meek voice spoke up. Turning he saw a young guard standing there, clearly wishing it wasn't him who had to confront Michael. "Co-could you p-please stop shouting at t-, ah, the fountain? You're starting to scare people."

The fountain?

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He demanded. "I'm not yelling at the fountain, I'm yelling at h-"

He turned back but saw no one. The half dressed, ratty man was nowhere to be seen. Where he  _knew_ he had been standing there was the tipping bottle meant to symbolize the Brewer. The water flowed from the spout, loud and sounding more like a taunting laugh than the babble of water.

"Wha? N-no, he was there!" He insisted. "He was standing in the fucking fountain!”

"I-I've been standing over there since dawn." The guard stammered. "You're the first person go near the fountain all morning."

"No!" Michael insisted again, to himself rather than the guard. "He was a small man dressed in rags, holding bottles, saying he was getting ingredients! He invited me to help him gather them!"

The name "Wanderer" was uttered behind him more than once and he froze at the implication. The god of magic, medicine, and music – was that really what they all thought he had seen? He'd rather they think he was drunk or high or ill, anything rather than have them all think he had seen the Wanderer.

He could hear his laughter in the back of his mind, starting small but quickly growing booming, sending pain all the way through him. He gripped his head and gave a painful groan, falling to his knees, it felt like something was trying to force it's way out of his fucking head!

He vaguely realized that someone was touching him and for whatever reason, whether it was the tramp or the laughter or maybe the almost forgotten fact that he still had a box full of contraband in a bag under his arm, he felt panicked and oddly pissed off. Who the fuck thought they had the right to touch him? He was going to break their fucking neck!

Any pain in him was replaced with fury as he swung his fists. His mind became blank, he could see what he was doing and was aware of his movements and could feel every time he made contact but none of it was properly registering, it was like it was someone else doing these things and Michael was only there to watch. It should have all been terrifying but it wasn't, the feeling was that of power and the more it went on the more he wanted.

It was screaming that finally made him stop, screaming and the feeling of suddenly being aware that he was drenched. He was in the fountain, soaking wet and looking down at the poor guard from before. He was curled into the fetal position, covered in blood and cuts and practically sobbing. What had just happened? What had he done?

The screaming was more coherent now. Some people were just panicking but other were begging him to stop, to let the man go. Others still were telling guards to help their comrade, that he was just one person! Something about that made him angry all over again, made that anger want to come out and show the ones who said he was "just one person" how very foolish they were.

... What was wrong with him?!

Michael backed away, body trembling. He did this. He beat the hell out of this man and he didn't even know why. His hands were covered in the other mans blood, all over his skin and under his nails. How could he do that? Sure, he had gotten into fights before but this wasn't like him at all, he would have never done something like this to another person, not without a damn good reason! His feet left the ground and he fell as the back of his knees met the edge of fountain. Hitting the ground might have hurt but if it did, he had no idea, his mind was so clouded by what he had just done that it didn't even register.

"S-shit! What just- why did I-" Words failed him.

"I-I-I'm so s-sorry." The meek voice of the guard whimpered from where Michael had left him. "I'll n-never touch you again, I s-s-sw-sw-ear."

Michael's body, almost as punishment, suddenly forced him to retch and he vomited. Great, that's just what he needed. He had to get out of there, go home and lay down, try to go to the shop another time. He tried to stand but he felt heavy and he collapsed under his own weight. Some part of him realized he was blacking out.

"Fuck." He cursed, however quietly, before he was out cold.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I have nothing to say about this chapter, probably cuz I'm tired.
> 
> Sorry for typos.


	7. Meeting Among the Starlight

Joel had loved to build once. Loved knowing that his own hands could take a pile of wood and a pile of stone and could shape them into something great. He had been so proud when he had built his first home and prouder still when he had it expanded with help from Adam. It was easy to miss the feeling of that accomplishment. Truth be told it had been his passion but now he was so worried about staying a guard that he didn't dare craft anything at all.

He could still remember when Adam had first come to the village. He was just a vagabond then, looking for a place to call home. After some friendly conversation and the discovery and sharing of contraband, wine and cocoa, the two had hit it off so well it surprised even them. They squabbled from time to time, sure, but that somehow only seemed to make their friendship that much stronger. Joel had gotten the younger man a job as a day time guard, the same position he held, and the two settled in together.

They hadn't really needed another guard back then and they both knew now that the wall could use their skills in building far more than their piss-poor swordsmanship, but being a guard was the second best job they could have! The Cloth, of course, beats all but they were not learned men and, like most of the people in the village, they couldn't even read. That left them with their current jobs, the guards were still in positions of power, collected more coin than most for their work, were given a bunk to sleep and live in if they didn't have a home, were fed three meals a day that they didn't have to pay for, and what may have been best of all, if they were on guard during the day, as both Adam and Joel were, then they didn't have to fight the monsters of the night and weren't in any real danger.

The two had been safe and could keep on pretending like they didn't know a damn thing about building for the rest of their lives if they chose. The trouble was now they weren't actually sure if they _were_ safe. It hadn't really effected or bother them when Michael had been trapped in stone but when guards started to call him a god, the two found themselves in a dangerous spot. The members of new faith had beaten plenty already into either quitting their guard jobs or believing in their “warrior god.” For the sake of their own well-being, the two joined his faithful quietly, though reluctantly.

Dealing with the Warrior's faith became the norm and Joel and Adam learned how to dodge trouble when they were involved. The trouble now? Michael was fucking back and that meant one of two things as far as Joel was concerned. Either the grumpy little ginger wasn't actually a god but the town guards would rally behind him anyways and destroy Achievement City in the process or, by some impossible feat, he really was a god and starts smiting everyone who dared to doubt him.

Neither were good for Adam and Joel because they were both on that list of doubters.

Even worse, Michael hadn't been awake for more than two days and he had already beaten the shit out of some poor idiot. Said idiot had made it a point to refuse to join Michael's worship as a new god, instead honoring only the old ones. Now, however, he was in the church, praying for the Warrior's forgiveness.

“What do we do?” Joel asked in a hushed tone at dinner time. “What if we're next? What if he sees us and just randomly starts beating the shit out of us?”

“Dude, Joel, relax. It's not a big deal.” Adam insisted.

“Not a big deal?” Joel demanded. “That guy was missing _teeth,_ _Adam_. I _like_ my _teeth!_ ”

“Yeah but some of the other guards said Mi- said he passed out right after it happened.” He tried to ease him. “You really think a god needs to nap after he gets into a fight.”

“He didn't pass out!” A man with dirty blond hair and stubble insisted. The two jumped a little at the intrusion but became calm when they saw who he was.

“Oh,” Joel sighed, “hey Matt.”

Matt was head of the guards and one of Joel's oldest friends. They had grown up together, along with Burnie, or the man they now called Father Burns. The three had been best friends, even if Burnie had been expected to follow his father's foot steps and join the clergy. But even with their divided positions the three had been looking out for each other. This was likely the only reason why Matt hadn't revealed that they doubted the divinity of the Warrior long ago.

Matt sat down across from them then. “He didn't pass out from the fight.” He insisted again. “He had been speaking with the Brewer before the man interrupted him. It must have put too much stress on the mortal vessel he's using.”

The Brewer, right, that was the rumor going around, wasn't it? He was yelling at a fountain and instead of thinking he had gone mad, everyone assumed he was speaking to a god.

What a bunch of idiots.

“Where even is he now?” Adam asked, hoping Matt would forget the insult he had spoken against his supposed god.

“People were too afraid to touch him,” Matt told him, “considering what he did to the guard, I'd say they were right to be afraid. So they let him lay there. Eventually Griffon, you remember Griffon right? She came back to town just a little while ago. Well, she passed by with her step-children. She got upset that people just left him like that, which I can't blame her, it's not exactly respectful, so she demanded she be allowed to take him home with her.”

“And people just let her take him?” Joel asked, baffled that no one would stop her.

“People tried to warn her but she called all of them stupid and took him anyway.” He said with a shrug. “I know she was friends with him before she left town, so maybe it'll be okay but if the Ramsey family upsets the Warrior then it's their own fault. I'm personally not sure if any of them can be trusted anyways. Even ignoring Griffon and her new husband's blatant lack of respect for the gods by getting those tattoos, I've still been hearing rumors that they might be moving contraband.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Yeah Matt, I know, you sent me to check their place out twice.”

And thank the god Matt had sent him and not some idiot who actually gives a damn about contraband being illegal. He had made good friends with Geoff and the man kept him and Adam in steady supply of any kind of alcohol they might be interested in. He hoped Matt never wised up to this but he suspected with Michael's return, the other man wouldn't be thinking much about contraband for a while.

Matt only shrugged and took a bite of his food. “I know but I'm just worried he might be hiding it somehow. Either way, if it's there, I'm certain the Warrior will find it and punish them accordingly.”

“Here's hoping.” Adam agreed, though really, the only thing the two were hoping for was that all of this would blow over soon and their alcohol supply kept flowing.

~BREAK~

 _You're_ still _asleep?_ A voice that sounded somewhere between disgusted and annoyed demanded. _They're going to get sick of waiting for you if you sleep for much longer, you know?_

Michael's heart pounded as his eyes darted around the dark void that seemed to make up everything. He didn't know how he had gotten here but this place was wrong and unnatural and certainly didn't welcome him. In fact, it felt like some part of it rejected him with unmeasurable fury. Just at the corner of his vision, something terrible moved within the blackness. It's shape was twisting with it's every movement, sometimes in the shape of a man and then horns would grow from it's head and it twist into a creature more like a bull and then it was something else entirely but it was always shrouded in black. He could feel the thing's eyes boring into him even without being able to see them and he knew it was judging him and maybe was deciding his fate.

Somehow he knew the creature's name without thought.

“Mad.” The word came out but it wasn't afraid or startled, on the contrary, it sounded almost pleased. It was as though he was seeing a good old friend that he hadn't seen in a long while. He felt himself move, going to the shadows he should have feared, like he wanted to be closer to this thing that he should not have felt so safe with.

The twisted thing in the darkness lunged forward. It caught his neck with hands too large to be human and with nails too shape to be of any natural beast's. Still Michael didn't falter. He couldn't help but smile into the darkness that still hid the thing's face. It breathed heavy and it's hand shook as though it would crush him in it's very grasp and yet it seemed like it couldn't.

 _We searched for you, you know?_ It told him. _We scoured all the Heavens to bring you home but you were determined to return to those..._ humans. _You chose to abandon us for_ them _._

Michael tried to speak, some part of him wanted to say that that wasn't true and that they were his family. Except that he didn't know who _they_ were and another part of him felt less apologetic and more angry. “I don't know what you're talking about or who you're talking about.”

 _Of course not._ It taunted him. _Red wanted you to forget. You had broken her heart, after all. You chose those weak_ things _over us and drove Father from the Heavens. So the four of us finally agreed on something, we wanted you to forget and wanted your most terrible wish to be true._

“What?” His most terrible wish? He had wished for a lot of terrible and dumb things in his life, he couldn't even begin to imagine what he could be referring to.

 _We made a mistake though and now there is no undoing it, no matter how we might wish to._ It sounded sad now. Slowly the hand at last let Michael go and it withdrew into the darkness before the creature began to move away.

“Mad, wait.” He pleaded before it could creep too far away. “Let me help, dammit! I don't know what I did to your family but tell me I can do something to help.”

 _... We regretted it, you know? Once it was done. Her most of all._ It gave a sad, low rumble. _We just wanted you to stay, to be part of our family, like you promised. I suppose we had forgotten how to be told “no.”_ Michael didn't know what to say to this but he felt almost wounded to hear Mad sound so lost to despair.

The shape became amorphous and pulsing before turning back to him, it let out a dull hum as though it were thinking. _Each year Achievement City throws a festival in honor of the gods. Something terrible will happen on this day._

It's tone was almost ashamed and Michael wondered what it could have done. “I can't help if you don't explain.”

… _The sun will turn black on this day and my monsters will not yield with morning's light, worse still, the black light will make them stronger. But the festival is the only thing that will give us the power to return home. From there we can stop this at last and undo the foul things we have done to our people... to you._

'Let the sky go black for a day' he had asked for that, hadn't he?

No, no, no! The city's wall couldn't survive an assault for that long, they'd be wiped out, his people, his friends, all gone! Why had he asked for such a thing?

He threw himself forward into the dark and grabbed at the shapeless mass. “Tell me how to fix this, dammit! Tell me what I can do!”

 _Do the duty our Father gave you when you joined us._ It answered before slipping out of his grasp with ease. _Now_ wake up!

The beast lunged forward again, this time making contact with his chest. He felt all his breathe escape him and he was knocked off his feet but he didn't hit the ground. Instead, he fell through the ground and watched the dark place drift farther away. Dotting the dark slate he could see the glimmers stars come into view.

Any fear he should have felt was absent in the place of awe. It was as though he were falling from the night's sky.

~BREAK~

When his eyes opened he had to gasp. He could still feel the pressure of the thing from his dreams... the Mad One. He had dreamed about the Mad One. But there was no way that was just a dream, it was too much of a coincidence, too vivid and real. He had to talk with Father Burn about this, had to talk about getting reinforcements to the wall, had to... had to...

Where was he and... was there something laying on him?

Lightly rumbling on his chest was a small black cat, curled up and looking pleased with how warm of a bed Michael made. He couldn't help being confused with the thing, mostly because he didn't know anyone with a cat. For just a second he wondered if this was a sign from the Red Lady, warning him of something or maybe an olive branch but he didn't have time to consider the possibilities behind a sleeping cat. He sat up, waking the cat who gave him a grumpy look before moving to a far corner of the bed he was currently on.

It was only then that he realized he wasn't alone. Sitting at a small table that sat a bit awkwardly in the center of the room, two men about Michael's age sat with several more cat surrounding them.

The first of the two was clearly taller but also fairly lanky. His hair was shaggy and blond and he sported an eyesore of a nose. He held a Siamese cat in his lap and was cooing as he scratched it under it's chin.

The second was shorter but also had far more muscle. He had the start of a beard and his hair appeared to be naturally brown but most of it had been dyed bright green. The man looked annoyed as a short haired brown cat was busy affectionately rubbing it's face against the man's face.

“Oh, my little Smee!” The blond delighted at his cat. “I don't know why I ever didn't like cat, they're perfect.”

“Sis'll be glad to hear you say that.” The other grumbled as his cat continued to rub their faces together.

Michael opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally finding his voice. “Uh... where the fuck am I?”

The men looked at him, like they had completely forgotten he was their. The blond looked more than a little amused by the question. “Our room.” He shrugged a bit, seeming to care more about the cat than him. “Found you half dead by the fountain. Had to loan you some of Ryan's clothes cuz ours won't fit ya.”

That was when Michael realized he wasn't wearing his own clothes. Sure enough, the old clothes he was wearing was replaced with a crisp white dress shirt and... a skirt? They had said he was wearing Ryan's clothes. Was he in Geoff's house? How had he gotten there and who were these people?

“We were also told to wait for you to wake up. “ The other one added. “At least until dinner anyway.”

Michael looked between the two of them, feeling unsure about them. “Who are you two, exactly?”

“I'm Gavin.” The blond explained.

The other one gave a small wave. “And I'm Jeremy. You met our father last night.”

“You're the twins.” If this was Geoff's place, then that was the only possible answer to who these two might be.

They both grew big smiles hearing this.

“You've heard of us?” Gavin sounded pleased.

“Yeah, uh, Ryan mentioned something about twins when I was here yesterday and Geoff said something about not trusting you behind the counter, I think.” Michael explained as he got up, awkwardly pawing at the skirt the whole time.

How was a man supposed to walk in this? It went down farther on him than it did Ryan but it was still barely passed his knees!

“Oh,” Jeremy had said, sounding a bit disappointed, “yeah, father's been a bit...”

He trailed off and Gavin took that moment to change the subject. “Dinner should almost be ready downstairs. Come on, you should join us.”

The twins stood and the cats immediately scattered as though they had been spooked. Was that normal? Gavin looked amused, so it must have been.

“And after dinner we can check to see if your clothes are dry.” Jeremy then suggested, his mood seeming to have shifted a bit for the better.

Michael eyed the skirt, he didn't want anyone to see him in this damn thing but he also didn't want to be rude. “Sure, uh, food sounds good.”

With excitement they lead him through the house. Gavin hung off of him and didn't seem to know how to stop touching him. Jeremy couldn't seem to stop staring and stood far too close as they moved. It was strange. Not because they were being so friendly with a perfect stranger but because under normal circumstances, Michael would have shoved these two by this point or told them to back up but he did neither of these things. He somehow wasn't upset at all. In fact, this all felt almost natural.

It was like being beside these two was where he was supposed to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit it's been a while... I promise I'm working on my various writings, I've just got a load of shit in my life that's been keeping me from writing anything worth reading.
> 
> Sorry for any and all typos.


	8. A Family Dinner

As it turned out, the Ramsey family's bedrooms were all on the shop's top floor. Jeremy and Gavin went out of their way to point out every room and tell Michael who slept where. On the left side were Ryan and Lindsay's rooms. It surprised him that they had separate rooms but Geoff had said that they were fighting and he supposed if he was as wealth as these people were, everyone in his home would have their own rooms too. The Twins, oddly enough, shared a room just at the very end of the hall next to Lindsay's room. Across from that room was a guestroom that both the twins said Griffon would likely insist he stay in for the night, their was no way he could beat the curfew back home after all. Beside the guestroom was an empty room that they said would house their baby sister in a few short months. Finally, by the stairs going down was Geoff and Griffon's room.

The twins allowed him only a few short moments to take in all this information before they were literally pulling him along and down the stairs. At there feet, the crowd of cats kept following them, getting under their feet and nearly being stepped on several times, the whole while meowing at them insistently. At some point Gavin had bend down and took two of the cats at random into his arms, Jeremy had likewise grabbed a small orange cat and handed it to Michael before scooping up two of his own.

Michael couldn't help but think it was strange how casual the two seemed to do everything. It wasn't like the pair were doing anything special or impressive, it was just the way their actions flowed together, like their minds worked together and they somehow weren't two separate entities. It didn't feel like there was any real purpose to the things they did and yet they had him smiling and hanging off their every word and had ever gotten him to hold a damn cat without thought.

At last they met the second floor. The stairs came down into a room with a fire place and chairs and tables that dotted the room. Beside the fire place, Griffon was busy adding wood and prodding it with a fire poker. Near by Ryan sat in a large wooden rocking chair, looking tired and staring off into space with an expressionless look on his face. A part of Michael wondered what kind of man would let a pregnant woman take care of the fire instead of just doing it himself but he also knew that he couldn't blame him, because Griffon had never been the type who would allow herself to be taken care of.

Once they had stopped moving, the cats jumped from the men's holds and scattered, some even going back up the stairs while others ended up in empty baskets and on chairs and tables. One ended up in Ryan's lap and another curled itself around Griffon's leg, asking for attention only to move on when she didn't turn her gaze from the fire. Jeremy looked annoyed at the cats.

“Fickle _animals._ ” He grumbled.

“Oh good,” Ryan spoke quietly, looking as though the sight of the three men physically pained him, “I thought my head would get a chance to get better but now you're here to make noise.”

Gavin opened his mouth to protest but stopped the moment Griffon shot him a look.

“Ryan spent too long down in the brewery.” She explained. “I told you the fumes were bad for you but nobody listens to me.”

Ryan scoffed. “That's not what's wrong. It's just a headache.”

“A headache that caused you to collapse?” Griffon demanded seriously. She stopped tending to the fire then, putting the poker down and giving him her full attention. “Ryan, I may not be a well read woman like you and the rest of the family but I know when something is wrong. So either you've been spending too long with the wines and potions or you really are sick and we need to take you to the town doctor.”

Ryan looked almost embarrassed by her worry.

Something about the situation made Michael want to intervene before she actually did try to drag him out of the house and across town to a doctor. “Ah, he's probably just a lightweight.” He insisted at once, drawing everyone's attention.

“That's true,” Jeremy added with a laugh. “You know Ryan doesn't even drink wine, just water and watered down cider normally.”

“Hey, cider is good.” Ryan protested.

“See, he's a bitch.” Gavin quickly agreed with his brother.

Griffon looked unsure but shrugged. “I guess but if it happens again I'm taking you to the town's doctor whether you like it or not.” Her attention then turned to Michael. “Speaking of being sick, you gave us a scare when we saw you in the street. We had to drag you home and call the doctor to come to the house.”

The redhead was immediately embarrassed as well. “I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I've pay you back as soon as I-”

“What are you on about?” Gavin laughed at him. “You don't owe us anything.”

He shook his head at once. “I don't care if an act of kindness is right in the eyes of gods or anything like that, I'm not gonna make anyone else pay for me. Especially not when I go-”

“No, dumbass,” Griffon cut him off, “he means you literally don't have a debt to pay. The moment the doctor saw it was you he refused to take any kind of payment.”

“Treated you for free and even said it was his duty to the Warrior, if you can imagine that.” Ryan added with a chuckle.

Michael was stunned for a moment. “Shit.” He eventually groaned out. “So I'm guess you guys know about all that then?”

“Know about it?” A new voice scoffed. Stepping into the room was Lindsay, removing her apron that today was covered in smudges of red and specks of brown. “How could we not know about the Warrior? How could we not see your face everyday in the church of our lords? It might have taken us a while to place your face but of course we would know the Warrior when we'd seen him.”

“Lindsay, don't be so dramatic.” Griffon had laughed at her. “Though she is right, it was impossible not to know, even if people wouldn't say your name anymore. Between seeing you stuck like that and Ray and Jack both coming around, I learned pretty fast what happened. So, like I said yesterday, you owe me explanation, Mister.”

All the eyes in the room were suddenly on him. Even Gavin and Jeremy who before had been all smiles and friendly were now watching him with great intensity. God dammit, he hadn't wanted to explain all of this again so soon, especially to so many people he didn't really know.

“I... look, I don't really _know_ what happened.” He admitted. “One second I was praying and the next the entire city was different.”

“What?” Gavin sounded disappointed. “You don't remember anything? Nothing about the Heavens? Not even the gods?”

“No, nothing,” he told him and with reluctance went on, “but... it could have been a dream but it felt so real.”

“A dream?” Lindsay had inquired. She had found a chair on the other side of the room and was watching him from a distance, looking like she was sizing him up almost.

Lindsay wanting to know more immediately turned his judgment on it's head. Some part of him almost wondered if this would impress the woman. “Yeah, before I just woke up, I dreamed about the Mad One. He-”

“The Mad One?” Jeremy had demanded loudly. Ryan immediately recoiled from the sound, holding his head. “How are-”

“Jeremy.” Griffon hushed him at once before looking to Ryan. “Maybe you should lay down for a while, you really aren't looking well.”

“No, no, I'm fine,” he assured her, “it's just a headache, really. Besides, I can't very well walk away from a story like this.”

Their eyes were back on Michael expectantly. “Uh, well, the Mad One had told me that I had done something to piss off the Red Lady. So much so that the first four children decided to make me forget ever being in the Heavens to begin with.”

“How the hell could you piss them off that much?” Griffon demanded.

“I think he said that I chose humanity over the gods.” He told her, with a shrug. “However the fuck I did that.”

“Who would choose humans over gods?” Gavin had laughed at the idea. “I think it really must've been a dream.”

Michael shrugged. “I mean, I'd think so too if not for seeing the Brewer in the fountain this morning and the voices-”

“Voices?” Griffon demanded. “Maybe we should take you to the doctor again. Just in case.”

“Griffon, I'm fine.” He insisted. “It's the gods, their messing with me! I'm pretty sure the only of the original five that hasn't fucked with me at this point is the Father.”

“Well how could he when he's dead?” The question came from the same doorway Lindsay had come from. Standing there in a messy apron, looking more than a little upset was Geoff.

Michael was taken aback by how angry the man sounded. Geoff had been more friendly with him then anyone else in town had the night before but now he looked at him the same way Father Burns used to always look at him. It was like he had disappointed him in some way and somehow it felt worse than a punch to the gut when it came from Geoff.

“Geoff,” Griffon spoke, “don't get mad at him. He just woke up two nights ago, you know that. He probably didn't know a thing about all of this, so it wasn't like he was lying to you.”

He didn't look impressed or convinced by this.

His gaze stung and Michael could barely stand to be looked at the way he glared. “I... look, I'm sorry I didn't admit I was connected to this “Warrior” bullshit but I'm not a god, I just pissed them off is all. I didn't kill the Great Father. Mad said he just isn't in the Heaven's... and maybe the other gods are suffering for it.”

Again they all looked at him with shock.

“What do you mean, suffering?” Geoff asked.

He sighed. “Mad said that I was trying to find a way to leave the Heavens and the first four children didn't like that. So they brought their power together to make me forget ever being there but it drained them and now their too weak to fix... well, _everything._ ”

He couldn't tell them about the black sun. They'd probably kill him if they knew that he had made such an evil wish simply because he was bored. No, he'd wait until he got to Father Burns to spill that secret.

Thinking of the clergy, he decided it was best he go. “I actually need to go.” He decided out loud. “Uh, I need to tell Father Burns about this dream and see if anything can be done.”

“What?” Griffon demanded. “You can't leave! It's already dark, the curfew-”

“The night guards won't touch me.” He assured her. “They worship me, remember? If anything, they'll think it's an honor that I decided to join them.”

“You must at least stay for dinner.” This time it was Lindsay who insisted. “Father and I worked very hard on the meal and we made far more than normally needed because we thought you would be joining us. It would be a pity for it to go to waste. Right Father?”

Geoff huffed but nodded. “It would be wrong to send you away without a meal. The gods wouldn't approve.”

He mentally cursed the fact that he already knew he couldn't leave when it was her who had offered.

“I, uh, I guess it couldn't hurt.” He decided, feeling oddly defeated but also excited to see Lindsay smile at his acceptance.

~BREAK~

The extravagance that the Ramsey family lived in was something that Michael could honestly say he never thought he'd experience. The fact that they had a whole room just for dining alone was amazing but the elegance of everything in the room only added to his awe. Their table was long, made of dark wood and had ornate images carved into the woodwork, likewise a dozen chairs all designed the same sat around the table. Their dishes were also stunning, they ate with real silver instead of wooden spoons and forks and their bowls, plates, and cups were made of brass, each with it's own intricate designs.

He felt out of place just sitting at the table.

“I know,” Griffon whispered to him, “I couldn't believe it at first either.”

No one else seemed to see his amazement. Geoff busily moved around the table with a large brass pot, scooping stew into bowls while Gavin lit a few candles on the table, Jeremy brought out a plate of bread, and Ryan began pouring cups for everyone.

“Cider or wine?” He asked everyone at the table.

“Whiskey.” Geoff answered bluntly as he served a bowl.

“Cider, for the baby's sake.” Griffon said with a smile.

“Wine!” Gavin chirped as he played with a match.

“Make that two.” Jeremy agreed.

“Cider for now,” Lindsay said, “we'll see where the rest of the night goes before I commit to wine.”

Ryan looked to Michael then. “Uh... cider I guess.”

“Aw, what?” Gavin sounded disappointed. “You don't want to get bevved up with us?”

“Yeah, don't be a bitch, Michael.” Jeremy had laughed at him.

He couldn't very well argue with that. How often did people offer him free wine, anyway? “Sure, a glass of wine couldn't hurt.”

Ryan served the drinks and poured himself a cup of cider before everyone finally sat and everyone linked hands. The twins had insisted Michael should sit between them on the far end of the table, putting him directly across from Geoff. It felt like the man was looking though him as their gazes met.

Why did this man make him feel so ashamed of his actions? Why did he care so much about what this stranger thought of him?

“Who wants to lead the prayer tonight?” Griffon asked around the table.

“It seems only right that the man who's seen the gods do the honors.” Geoff suggested.

Lindsay had smiled at the suggestion. “Wonderful idea.” She looked to Michael. “Don't worry about offerings, we always have plenty left over, so I don't expect any request you make will be too extravagant.”

God, Michael hadn't done one of these prayers in years. They were only supposed to pray before their meals if they planned to give an offering, which meant burning a portion of food to pay homage to the gods. In return, they could asked for a boon or a kindness from the gods. Generally modest requests were rewarded, while those that demanded more than their offering would be punished or simply ignored. He couldn't remember the last time he had enough food to even think about giving an offering.

“Uh...” He looked around the table. “I don't really do these very often.”

“Ah, just for ask anything.” Gavin insisted. “It's what I do when it's my turn to pray. First thing that pops in my head, I ask for it.”

“Yeah, so just do better than Gavin and you'll do fine.” Ryan assured him.

The blond squawked disapprovingly but was ignored.

Michael thought on it for a moment. If nothing else, maybe he could protect the city with a humble prayer. “Gods above, we thank you for the food you have give and we ask you to bless us this evening. Please, protect Achievement City. Keep it's walls unbreached throughout the night and it's people strong and well rested. And if nothing else, I ask of you, take no more of our people this night. Amen.”

“Amen.” The rest of the table repeated.

Everyone looked a little surprised at him.

For a moment he thought he had done something wrong until Ryan laughed. “Wow, he really is way better than you, Gavin.”

Gavin squawked again and the whole table fought back laughter.

“I just hope they're willing to hear me.” Michael admitted.

He looked to a nearby window and wondered. He had angered the gods, sure, but Mad had made it sound like they regretted whatever they had done to him to make him forget the Heavens. Maybe they would grant his prayer and help him save Achievement City in this way.

It was almost like a slap in the face when the thunder crackled. The rain was almost immediate and heavy. Michael couldn't picture this being anything less than the gods laughing in his face.

Beside him Gavin actually laughed. “Called it!”

“Oh, shut up.” Griffon insisted.

“I mean, he did call it.” Jeremy agreed with Gavin.

“Wait, what did he call?” Michael forgot his self pity for a moment and looked to Griffon.

“Gavin apparently thinks the baby is magic.” She explained, giving Gavin an annoyed look.

He didn't look fazed at all. “All I'm saying is that every time the baby is fussy, it rains. This morning you said that she kicked you awake and now it's raining.”

“To be fair,” Ryan added, “as much of an idiot as Gavin might be, we've yet to prove him wrong on this one.”

Thunder boomed a little louder, as though to agree with Gavin. Still, Griffon scoffed, instead turning her attention to her food. Everyone else did the same. Michael expected the meal would be a quiet one, save for the thunder, but after only a few minutes the table ended up being filled with chatter. More still, the Ramseys had pulled him into the conversation.

“So Michael,” Ryan had decided to change the subject at some point, “you told us what happened in the fountain but you never actually told us what caused you to panic so much that you beat the crap out of that poor bastard.”

“Honestly, I was coming here.” He admitted. “Ray sent me to sell you his poppy seeds and... shit, wait, where's my bag?!”

How could he forget? He had been carrying around contraband! If anyone found his bag, then the church likely knew by now for sure. They'd have him locked away for the rest of his life or executed or banished! He was fucked! He threw himself out of his chair. He had to go back to the fountain, had to see if it was still somewhere around their. Maybe someone picked it up and just held onto it, thinking they owed the Warrior or something.

He didn't get far before Jeremy spoke up. “Oh! What did I tell you, there was no way those were all his! No way he'd need or use that much.”

“Wait, it's here?” Michael asked, relieved. “Oh, thank the gods. I was gonna lose my shit.”

“It wasn't like we were going to leave it there.” Griffon assured him. “Though it would have been a lot better if the twins didn't snoop through it.”

The two shrugged, unfazed before Gavin grabbed Michael's arm and tugged him back to the table. Jeremy gave him a calming smile that convinced him to sit.

Geoff gave a hmph sound and nodded. “After dinner, I'll take a look at the box and we'll talk prices.”

With calmed nerves Michael ate. The food tasted excellent and to his surprise, he was offered seconds before he was even done with his bowl, in fact everyone had seconds. By the time the meal was over, Michael could honestly say that he had never been so full in his life.

“Alright Michael,” Geoff spoke up, leading him away from the table as the other members of the family started clearing the dishes away, “how about we go look at that box you brought?”

They made their way down the stairs in silence. Thunder still rumbled outside and the rain sounded heavier than ever. The gods really must have been furious with him to trigger such a downpour. Eventually they were the stores backroom, where they had apparently hid his bag.

The box was cracked open and Geoff gave a hmph sound. “Not a bad haul. He say how much?”

Oh shit, what had Ray told him? “Uh... yeah, I _think_ he said no less than 60 silver.” That sounded right.

“No less than 60!” He barked a laugh. “Ray's fucking getting full of himself. Though I guess I would too if I had a god as a delivery boy.”

“I'm not a god.” Michael insisted. “I just pissed a few off.”

Geoff looked doubtful. “Alright, 60's fair, just barely but it is fair.”

He moved and uncovered a safe. He counted out each coin until he had a bag of 60 silver. “You should remind 'im that Ryan won't be willing to go so high with the price after I leave the city again. All the same, it's a pleasure doing business with the Warrior himself.”

Why did Michael hate the way he said that? Why did it sting so much that he had disappointed this man? “Listen, Geoff, I'm sorry I didn't actually tell you I was this Warrior thing but that's only because I didn't know about it until the moment you told me and honestly, I know there's no way I did what people say I did. I could never- would never kill the Father! I-”

“I know!” Geoff cut him off, almost sounding defeated. “I know you're just some guy that got mixed up in this mess but if it wasn't you that's let the First Children run wild, then that means the Father really has stopped caring!”

“That's not true!” Michael told him. “Look, I don't know where the Father is right now, Mad made it sound like he left the Heavens but if that's the case, then there must be a reason. Even if it's a shitty reason, I don't blame him, because I apparently cared so much about humans that I tried to run away from the Heavens also!”

The two stood there a bit awkwardly. They didn't know each other very well but Michael still wanted to comfort the man, wanted him to know his faith wasn't wrong. It didn't feel easy convincing him when Michael felt so lost as well.

“I guess we don't really know anything for certain.” Geoff sighed. “... we should see if they still need help cleaning up upstairs. After that we'll see if Ryan'll loan you a night shirt.”

He covered the safe back up and began to move to the stairs but Michael stopped him.

“Actually, not that I'm not grateful, but I really need to get to the church.” Michael explained. “Thank you for your hospitality all the same.”

Geoff scoffed. “You're gonna leave this late, in this weather, just to go to the church?”

“I have very pressing information to give to Father Burns.” Michael felt a little embarrassed giving an excuse that he had to leave so abruptly.

“The church'll be there in the morning.” Geoff insisted, sounding a bit amused. “Besides, you're clothes were still out on the line when it started raining. They're definitely soaked all over again. You'll catch your death going out in those and the alternative is... well, let's just say Ryan's fashion sense hasn't exactly caught on round town, especially with the guards.”

He was making a lot of good points, which was frustrating to say the least. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to argue with him about this. He followed Geoff up the stairs and helped Griffon and Gavin with the burning of their offerings while Ryan and Jeremy finished clearing the table. Geoff told Lindsay they would be using the spare room after all and she took off up the stairs without another word.

By the time she was back, Geoff had pulled out a small sting instrument, Griffon told Michael it was called a Merlin, and he started strumming it. The first thing he realized was that Geoff wasn't very good at playing the thing and yet the rest of the family smiled and gave kind claps as he tried played a full song. There was occasional teasing from people in the room but everyone still insisted he keep playing whenever he suggested he should stop.

“You really should take it on the road with you.” Griffon insisted. “You'd learn so much faster if you didn't spend months at a time without it.”

“I don't want it to get lost or stolen,” he told her, “it's much safer here. Besides, you're learning to play it too, I wouldn't want to keep you from learning.”

“You never lose anything you travel with.”Gavin challenged.

“And gods help the fool that thinks he can take our father.” Jeremy agreed with a laugh.

Geoff smiled at Griffon but shook his head. “I'd rather be here where I know it's safe. It was your gift to me for our wedding, after all.”

Griffon rolled her eyes but still gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Michael got the feeling this wasn't the first time they had spoken about this. In fact, he was pretty sure this was something they probably talked about whenever Geoff would come back to town.

Eventually the night came to a close. Ryan had pulled out a pocket watch that had put Michael nearly in shock, the damn thing was made of real gold, and commented about how late it had gotten. Geoff had muttered something about how there wasn't enough hours in the day before announcing that they all had to be up in the morning and had actually sent them all off to bed like they were small children.

Michael didn't complain, he followed the rest of them up the stairs, stopping only when Geoff had shouted after Ryan to give him a shirt before they went to bed. He slipped into his room and came out with a long night shirt before Michael made his way towards the spare room.

It felt awkward slipping into the bed. It was bigger and softer than the one he shared with Jack and Ray, with thick, warm wool blankets. Everything about laying in the bed felt wrong. It was too big without someone laying beside him, he felt selfish keeping it all to himself and of course he couldn't remember the last time he had ever slept in a bed alone. It was likely never. He couldn't help but feel lonely.

These thoughts made drifting off to sleep hard but once he finally did, his mind drifted through the Heavens once again. It wasn't a meeting like with the Mad One however, it was far more like a memory. He laughed as he chased after a bright red cat, across the sky and around the stars, not yielding even as the sun rose and fell in the sky. He stopped only once he had finally caught up and captured the feline in his arms. The cat actually looked pleased, rubbing her's face against his.

“I guess a deal's a deal.” The cat had said in a lovely voice.

Michael's heart fluttered for a moment, the entire world was everything he could have dreamed of until suddenly he had opened his eyes to the sound of shouting that it was time to wake up. The cat was gone and in her place was a numb feeling. He didn't know why it hurt so much but he was damn sure he was going to get to the bottom of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired and I should be in bed and I haven't up dated this damn story in almost half a year. 
> 
> Enjoy, typo apologies and all that.


	9. Plan of Action

Mornings where Michael would wake up with Ray and Jack were often quiet. They would rise with the sound of the first few church bells, with maybe one of them shaking the other two awake, normally Jack, they would stretch and grunt but not really speak. They would eat, if there was any food to be had, and then would shamelessly strip in front of each other to change into their clothes for the day, because of course they had known each other far too long to be worried about something as meaningless as seeing each others' asses.

It was strange to think that something as simple as a quiet morning could be seen as a fond memory but on this particular morning, he realized that some people didn't get that kind of wake up. The yelling was immediate – with someone, Gavin he was fairly sure, pounding on his door and insisting it was morning and that Geoff had already started breakfast. The shouting had surprised him so much that he hadn't thought to even reply.

Michael got up and spotted his clothes – cleared, dried, folded, and left out for him to find on a chair at the foot of his bed. He wondered who it was that had woken up so early to put them there, his heart fluttered a bit at the thought that it might have been Lindsay. The woman really was extraordinary and he found himself envying her husband more and more with each passing moment.

Before he could even get his night shirt off another pound came to his door, this time it was Ryan's voice, far too loud for the early hours of the morning, asking if Gavin had told him to get up, and Michael could only give a quiet 'uh, yeah' in return.

He was at the door when the third knock came and whoever was on the other side didn't even get to speak before Michael replied. “I fucking heard you the first two times!”

He could hear Jeremy on the other side mumbling. “Geez, what's his problem?”

Was this really how wealthy people lived? Weren't they supposed to be dignified or some shit? He didn't know but he was tired of being yelled at through a door.

He made his way down the stairs, ready to find Griffon or Geoff, to tell them he had to leave. He found them together with everyone else around their dining table, arguing with Ryan.

“We have move our product!” He insisted furiously.

“If they want their wine so bad, they can come to us.” Geoff snapped at him.

“You know Brother Sorola can't come here. A member of the church wouldn't need anything from us, it's too suspicious.” Ryan reminded him. “That'll put all of us in danger. It's safer if I go to the church myself and deliver it secretly.”

“And if you're caught?” Griffon demanded. “You can't exactly slip a bottle of wine to someone discreetly.”

“Why can't we just get one of the guards to do it like before?” Gavin asked, sounding bored as he played with a bowl of porridge.

“The last asshole he had collecting his wine died in a zombie attack.” Geoff told him. “It's his job to find another guard willing to stick his neck out for him, not ours.”

“Just ask to see the library.” Michael almost regretted speaking up as all eyes turned to him.

“What?” Geoff demanded.

“Gus, Brother Sorola, he runs the library under the church. It's full of old books and shit.” He elaborated. “Brother Sorola is the only one with the keys, if you ask him to let you in and you're not part of the church. he'll just sorta stand there and watch you, to make sure you don't damage the stuff down there. Once he let's you down there, you could slip the wine to him and set up a system.”

“How do you even know about that?” Jeremy asked. “No offense but I wouldn't expect a guy who originally worked as a guard to be able to read or anything like that.”

Michael shrugged. “When I was younger, some of the men who knew how to read would take the younger kids down there and read to us. Mostly stories of the gods but we all thought it was fun. We all thought the library was cool, kinda like a dungeon. Back then Brother Sorola was still learning from his dad, but even when he was just Gus to all of us, he was still an asshole about being careful with the books.”

“Wait, seriously?” Geoff shouted, sounding more shocked than upset. “You mean there's been a place I could go to get books in this city and no one told me?”

Geoff looked to Griffon with a disappointed look. She gave an annoyed shrug. “Don't even. You're barely home as it is. You were never going to spend time with any of us if you had a book to bury you nose in. I'd like my husband to do things with me for the few weeks he's here every few months.”

Griffon gave Michael a sour look then. “And for the record, the issue isn't just the location. We're worried about being caught with the contraband. It's too risky to even take it out on the streets. The head of the guard is a hard ass and already thinks we're hiding something.”

Ryan looked him up and down. “What about Michael?”

“Excuse me?” She demanded.

“No one's gonna touch him, Hullum is one of the ones enforcing the Warrior's divine will. He'd be perfect for carrying goods around town.” Ryan insisted. “We'll just... I don't know, say we're friend if anyone asks and walk around town together. We can slip people whatever they're paying for and no one has to be the wiser. Plus, he's going to the church this morning anyway, right?”

“Michael doesn't want to carry our contraband.” Geoff insisted before looking to him. “And don't say you owe us or some shit. You don't have to be part of this.”

The reasonable answer was to agree with Geoff. Delivering contraband was not what he had in mind when he was considering finding a new job and besides that, with the vision he had gotten the day before, he really didn't have time for something like that. And yet he didn't want to say no. He liked the Ramsey family; he wanted to have more fun with Gavin and Jeremy, get to know Ryan a bit better, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd do if he didn't get to look a Lindsay's face again.

“I mean, I already did it for Ray, that didn't go so bad.” He tried to reason. “I don't mind... but the matters I have with the gods have to come first, there's no way around that. I can still walk with Ryan today, if that's okay, since I'm going there's anyway.”

Gavin jumped to his feet. “Sounds top, we should all go with you. I wanna see the library!”

“I think someone's forgetting they have jobs to do around the house.” Geoff spoke up. That got annoyed sound from all his children.

“You don't let me or Jeremy behind the counter anyway.” Gavin whined. “And the animals are all fed and watered.”

“And it's still early,” Jeremy added, “we'll have time to catch back up. We'll be gone for three hours at the most.”

Geoff gave a “hmph” in response. “Fine, my children want to neglect their responsibilities to go to the library, fine. Not like I wanted to go see it or anything.”

“You're the best, Geoff.” Ryan told him teasingly as he got up from the table.

“You better not get caught!” He demanded, sounding serious.

Ryan and Gavin, abandoning their unfinished food entirely and saying something about getting the wine ready before heading downstairs. Jeremy piled the rest of his bowl in his mouth and muttered about wasting food.

“Leave them,” Lindsay told him, “we can burn the rest or give them to hogs.”

“I guess.” Jeremy shrugged.

He looked to watched Lindsay start to clear the table and then looked to Michael like he expected him to say something. Did he want Michael to ask for something to eat? He wasn't really hungry if he was being honest and he couldn't imagine eating more of their food after they had so kindly given him so much the night before.

When Michael said nothing Jeremy spoke again. “You coming with us, Lindsay?”

Oh. Had that been what Jeremy wanted? But why would he expect Michael to extend that invitation. They barely knew each other.

Lindsay looked surprised by the question. “You lot don't want a girl coming along.”

“Says who?” Jeremy sounded offended.

She looked offended right back in return. “You and Gavin and... him. What was it you'd always say? I 'ruined your fun,' right?”

Jeremy became embarrassed and looked away and Michael couldn't help be feel a little embarrassed as well. Michael had older brothers, he knew what it was like to be the kid who wanted to be left alone by his boring older siblings, so it made sense that at some point the twins had likely been the same way. But surely that couldn't have been any time recently, it was a bit petty that she hold grudge for that long. Then again, who was “him?” Ryan? That brought up even more question.

Jeremy looked to Michael again, like he would fix this.

Well, alright then.

“Aw, come on.” He felt dumb as the words came on but he just kept going. “It'll be fun. And you'll get to meet Joe. He was always in the library.”

“Joe?” Everyone in the room asked and looked at him curiously.

Griffon added, “Oh gods, is that fat bastard still alive?”

He shrugged. “Well, I haven't seen him in a year but he was alive and kicking the last time I was in the Library. I feel like everyone in town would know if he had died, he's sorta famous around the church.”

“Yeah, for throwing up on everything.” She laughed.

Jeremy looked at him, as though to demand how that would convince his sister to come with them and Lindsay looked at him equally as lost.

She crossed her arms and looked skeptical. “Why would I want to meet this Joe?”

“If you want to find out you gotta come with us.” He insisted.

Lindsay looked like she was really thinking about it, like she might actually say no to going to the library and meeting Joe but then she signed and shrugged. “Alright, fine, but this Joe guy better be amazing.”

Michael couldn't help but smile. “Don't worry, I know you'll like him.”

~BREAK~

When Jack had gone to sleep the night before, he had been worried and he'd argue that his fears were justified. Michael had walked back into his life not even a full two days before disappearing yet again and with the curfew in place, he and Ray couldn't even go out looking for him. When he had woken up the next morning, he had wondered if he could have gotten away with not going to the wall that day and instead if he could run around town trying to find his dumbass friend before he got himself in real trouble but when he look out his window that morning, he knew he couldn't stay away.

The wall that just a short while ago had finally been made mostly into stone was standing stronger than Jack had ever seen it stand during the early hours of the day – it was almost pristine in condition. It felt like the gods were giving them a rare chance to breathe and reinforced the wall greater than they'd ever been able to do before. It would be a sin to stay away.

Jack didn't even eat anything that morning, he ran out the door the moment he was dressed and sprinted to the wall. This might have been ignorable, most likely would have assume he was just late and not paid him a second thought, if not for the fact that many other builders of the wall were running along with him. All of them running down the street drew the eyes of villagers just waking up and the night and day guards as they exchanged posts. Their mass excitement brought a crowd with them, all stunned by the shape of the wall.

There were carpenters that had already arrived, giving orders and mapping out where would best be benefited by reinforcements. Jack fell in line with smile on his face, hauling stone and iron where ever he was pointed. What no one expected was for random villagers to show up and begin helping in any way they could. The men who didn't know how to build helped move materials so the carpenters didn't have to go far to get them, some helped hold things in place as they were hammered or stone was laid. Women and children came too, some brought well water with fresh bread and fruit, some insisted on helping build, not caring that the church would normally frown on such a thing, and some just came to watch and encourage the builders by playing jaunty tunes on whatever instruments they could bring.

They didn't know what they had done to earn such a good day or if they'd ever get another day like it but there was no shortage of rumors for the prime suspect going around town. The Warrior had blessed them, not just the carpenters or the guards but the town's people as well. Everyone had woken up that morning in good spirits and in good health, none of the guards had been lost or even injured the night before, and by the day's end the wall would stand stronger than it ever had before.

If this was not the work of the gods, then what was? If this was not a time of celebration, then when was? Jack couldn't pretend that he knew everything about the gods but he still sent his prayers and gave his thanks with each stone he laid. It was only right.

~BREAK~

It was honestly shocking how few people they saw on the street. Michael felt genuine fear as the five of them walked down the street. Where was everyone? He might have stopped to ask someone but given that he was carrying contraband, the streets being bare really was the best thing for them.

“Act normal but don't stop unless someone stops you.” This was the demand that Ryan had given him. He liked to think he was doing well, until they had to pass that damn fountain.

Blood. He could smell it before he could see it but once he saw it he thought he might vomit. This, it wasn't his work, even though the sculptures would suggest otherwise. It was not the blood of the guard the day before and it was not his own blood – the blood poured from the fountain, from the spot that the sword the was meant to represent the Warrior, the sword that was supposed to be him, was buried in the star that was the Father. It was not red but a green-black ichor, spraying into the fountain, mixing with the tears of his children.

Michael covered his mouth shook in horror. Gods, why did this keep happening? Why did this damn fountain have it out for him? Why the fuck would anyone let this fountain, in all it's disrespect stand tall? His hand went to sword... that wasn't there. Had he left his sword at home? He couldn't remember, that didn't sound like him and yet it wasn't on his hip.

“Michael?” It was Lindsay's calm voice that pulled him back to reality.

In that moment the ichor disappeared and in it's place there was only water. He felt like he was losing his mind.

“I know, it's hideous, right?” Ryan asked. “I guess it started as a normal monument to the gods but the followers of the Warriors stuck their noses in and this was the result.”

“I makes me sick.” Michael spat at the thing.

“I don't know about that.” Jeremy said, “maybe if the Warrior was set up a little different.”

“Yeah, you look good among the gods, Michael boi!” Gavin insisted then. “You just gotta talk to someone about that placement.”

“I don't belong on that star.” He said sharply and forced himself to move away. “And I'm not going to disrespect the gods by acting like I do.”

His stomach eased as they walked and he did his best to focus on whatever they were talking about but it was hard not to think about the Father, bleeding because of something he had done. But, damn it all, what had he done?

The church was almost empty which suited him just fine. The only people there at the moment were the brothers and sisters of the church, though the five of them all coming in had made everyone go still. Michael scanned the room until he saw Brother Sorola, who was pretending like he hadn't been staring his way. He approached, feeling the eyes all over him.

“Hey, Gus.” The words came out far too casual. They didn't know each other even close to well enough for him to call him by anything but his title and yet old habits die hard. “I told my friends about your dungeon, they'd like to see it.”

Gus frowned, he had never thought it was funny when the kids would call the library a dungeon and it showed even now. He looked around him at the Ramseys, who all gave small waves. “Why am I not surprised you'd make friends with the lot of them?”

“If I had to guess, probably because Griffon is their new stepmom.” He answered plainly.

“Fine.” Gus pushed passed him and ushered the five on them through a doorway and down a flight of stairs. “These book are very old and unless you are a member of the church you may not take them from the library. If you damage them you will pay from them, whether it be in coin or your hands. I will not be reading anything for you so don't expect me too. And most importantly, if you have any question, keep them to yourself because I don't care.”

“Charming as ever.” Michael laughed a bit.

“I liked you better as a rock.” Michael couldn't help but be impressed that Gus had spoken these words with no fear in his voice at all. It took a brave man to say something like that to the face of someone rumored to be a god. Even though something in the back of his mind rumbled and told him to not allow such disrespect, he couldn't bring himself to act on the blooming fury. That was just how Gus was, not even a god could change that.

Gus opened a metal door and let them all file into the room, he then closed and locked it behind him so that they couldn't try to sneak anything out. The room was large and filled with shelf after shelf of old tomes. For a moment all four of the Ramseys looked giddy, starting to walk off towards the shelves. It was only when Michael cleared his throat and said “uh, guys,” that they remembered why they came in the first place.

“Oh, right.” Ryan had answered sheepishly before opening his bag and presenting a glass bottle. “Brother Sorola, we know you've h-”

Gus hushed him at once, looking back at the heavy metal door and then each of them. His gaze finished on Michael, it was almost like he was accusing him of something. Finally he looked to Ryan, glaring at him. “Is this some sort of trick. Trying to pin something on me?”

Michael stepped forward. “Look, if you're worried about the Warrior thing-”

“Of-fucking-course I'm worried about 'the Warrior thing' you jackass!” Gus snapped at him. “I can't even fucking say your name without someone threatening my life, you think I trust you to bring me wine.”

“You think I give a shit about the contraband laws?” He demanded. “I love wine, I'd drink it in the street if I could. It's not my fault you assholes enforce this shit. Now we're trying to make an arrangement, you want to hear it or not?”

Gus huffed but looked back to Ryan, likely knowing if anyone here was the business man it was him. “What's the arrangement?”

“You lost your guard so now we'll send someone to drop off your supply of wine.” Ryan explained. “We'll ask to see the library, you'll take us down here, we'll make our exchange and after a little while we'll leave. But you're going to have to do something about your guards. We don't want to be hounded if we're risking our necks for you.”

He looked like he was thinking about it but clearly couldn't find the flaw he was looking for. “Alright, I'll have to see what I can do about the guards. Most of the over zealous ones are the night guards but there are a few on the day shift. I'll talk to Father Burns about shifting them around, that should ease the heat for a while.”

“Excellent, then there's only one more thing,” Lindsay chimed in.

Nodding, Gus started to dig though a pouch on his hip. “Right, payment.”

“No... well yes but according to Michael here, there's someone I just have to meet.” She explained. If she caught the stunned look Gus had given at hearing someone speak the Warrior's name, she didn't show it. “So, who exactly is Joe?”

Clearly the request threw him off for a second. “Joe? Normally only the kids and Burnie care about that fat fuck.”

Lindsay shrugged. “So I hear but Michael convinced me I had to meet him.”

Gus glanced around for a few moments before giving an “ah ha” and walked over to a shelf. He groaned as he bent down and lifted something from a bottom shelf. He came back with a large, orange, and indeed fat cat in his arms. It gave a lazy groan but didn't seem to care in the slightest that it had been moved from it sleeping spot.

Lindsay gasped as though the animal before her was the precious thing in the world. She snatched him from Gus's arms and gave delighted cooing sounds at him. Michael couldn't help but feel proud, knowing that he had been right, all it took was a cat to brighten her mood.

… why had he known that?

“Alright, well she's gonna be like that for a while.” Jeremy laughed a bit before turning to Michael. “So we'll get our payment and you've gotta talk to Father Burns, right?”

“Uh, right.” He had wanted to stay a little longer and see Lindsay happy a little bit more but he also knew that there were things to be done. He handed over the bag of wine that he had brought and pointed to the door. “I gotta go, can you open the door.”

Gus grumbled something but did as he was asked, eyeing the other four as much as he could as he undid the lock. Michael slipped out and the door slammed and locked behind him. He chose not to take offense to that.

All eyes were again on him when he made it back to the main hall. The fear they all had in their eyes made him wonder, did they think he had hurt the people he had gone down their with? Did they think he would hurt them next? He hated their judgmental stares and fought hard not to snap at the lot of them for daring to look at him that way. Instead he looked to Father Burns.

“I need to talk to you, privately.” He told the other man as he approached him.

“Will this conversation be as enlightening as our last?” He asked dully. Flipping through his holy text as though he didn't fear Michael at least a little. “Or as pointless?”

The anger was starting to boil, all the eyes, all the insulting words being thrown around, something inside of him was demanding this man be made an example of. But what would his new friends think of him if they came up to see he had beaten a priest or worse, killed him. He couldn't stand the idea of the twins not wanting to be his friends any longer and he'd never get the chance to learn anything about Ryan if he snapped now. And Lindsay...

He had to keep calm.

Through gritted teeth he spoke again. “I said, I need to speak with you, now.”

There was new fear in Father Burns' eyes, which was exactly what Michael wanted to see. He walked passed him, going into the same door he had been lead through not long before. He went up and eventually made it to Father Burns' room, wisely the older man had decided to follow him. Michael let himself in and waited for Father Burns to enter and close the door behind him.

“You have a lot of nerve, coming back here and giving orders.” He snapped at him. “I could have made you a voice in this church but you-”

“Shut up.” Michael spoke the words calmly but his eyes reflected the rage that was screaming to be freed. “I'm having visions, both in my dreams and in my waking hours. I'm hearing voices, I've seen or heard all of the First Children. The Father is not in the Heavens and all I know is that it's my fault it happened. I pissed off the First Children, broken the heart of the Red Lady, and they stole my memories of the Heavens and cast me out for it but that took too much of their power and now they don't have anyway to stop everything that's happening to the city.”

He spoke fast and his breath was ragged by the end. Those words spoken, his rage drained and he was left instead feeling tired. He looked to the Father, waiting to be screamed at, to be told that he was as much of a fool as he new he was.

The yelling did not come though, instead he looked at Michael with a kind of awe all over again. At last he asked. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes.” Michael admitted, shame building in his gut. “There's a festival soon, we haven't had enough of really anything in this city to celebrate since I was still a child and you weren't even a priest yet but we have to. I don't know why or how but celebrating the gods will give them the strengths they need to return to full power.”

“That's fine,” he insisted at once, “we can manage a festival, it might result in a shortage of food for a while but if it helps the gods then it's more than worth it.”

“It won't be that simple though.” Michael sighed. “Because the sun will turn black and Mad's monsters will be even more terrible than normal. The First Children decided this with what was left of their power and have none left to undo it.”

Father Burns looked horrified. For a few moments he could only stand their slack-jawed, just trying to find words worth a reply to being told such a thing. “Then... what can we do?” He finally asked.

“I don't know.” He admitted, dejected he took a seat on Father Burns' bed. Suddenly, Michael felt very tired.

From the look he was wearing, it was fairly clear that Father Burns felt the same way. He sighed and pulled at a cord around his neck, out with it came a key. He said nothing as he approached his desk and unlocked the very bottom drawer, pulling out a green bottle and a cloth sack. Just as quietly, he walked over to the bed and sat beside Michael, offering the bottle to him.

Michael took a moment to look the bottle over as he took it in his hand, turning it to see the letter G molded into the bottle's bottom. “So it's true.” He signed, feeling more than a little annoyed. “You holy men are a bunch of closeted drunks.”

“Only sometimes.” The father admitted as he opened the sack and pulling out a hand full of cocoa before offering the bag over also. It was strange, it was almost like he genuinely didn't care anymore, and perhaps he really didn't. “If the city is to fall, what's the point of being sober and without sin? “

Michael didn't reply at first, he only looked at the bottle in his hands. This wasn't right, none of this felt right, and yet it felt as though everything was slipping through their fingers so quickly that nothing else really mattered. He took a hand full of cocoa as well and popped piece in his mouth.

It was bitter but also sweet and he let out an exaggerated moan. “Gods, I haven't had cocoa since I was a kid. Which of you assholes was it who banned this shit?”

“My father, before my ordainment.” He admitted as he also ate a piece. “Truth be told, I never did forgive him.”

They sat in silence for a little bit, eating cocoa and passing the bottle back and forth. After a while, the quiet became too much and Michael found that he had been alone with his thoughts for too long.

“What if we held the festival the day before?” He suggested at last. “I bet most in the town wouldn't even notice it was early.”

“I'm sure they wouldn't but there would be no point.” The older man told him between bites. “It's not the offerings or even the celebration that's important about the festival, it's the date. It's the day that the Great Father first took a piece of himself and made mankind. That date hold power, it's the date that we're meant to give back a bit of the power they gave up to make us.”

“Fuck,” was all Michael could think to say. He sighed again, taking a long drink of wine before handing it back over. “Alright... how do we celebrate the festival then?”

Father Burns scoffed. “We don't. We put every possible soldier on the wall, pile as many people as will fit into the church, and pray that the gods will find the strength to spare us.”

Michael's face twisted as he heard this. “No offense, but that's a really shitty plan and even if the city lives to see the end of the night, that wouldn't have fixed the gods having no power.”

“You got a better plan?” He demanded as he took a long drink of his own.

For a moment he almost wanted to say 'no' and give up but something inside of him told him that hiding away wouldn't help them survive. “Well... maybe?”

“Alright, _Warrior,_ I'm listening.” The words were bitter and full of doubt and, honestly, Michael couldn't blame him.

“Well,” Michael paused for a moment. What was he doing? He had never lead anyone before, he certainly wasn't fit to give advice like this, and yet here he was trying to think of a way to save his whole city. “I think... I think some of what you've said is a good start. We're gonna need every soldier we can get on the walls, which means the day guards are going to need to be ready to fight the actual monsters. We're also gonna need people keeping the walls strong through the attack. Carpenters will either have to be worked round the clock when the Black Sun comes or they need to start being allowed to work through the nights starting now to keep the wall standing strong enough that it'll last. And then there's still the festival.”

Father Burns gave a tired laugh. “What festival? I thought I made it clear that there's no way we could possibly proceed?”

“We'll have to try.” Michael insisted. “We'll hold the celebrations around the church and should the walls fall, the people will already be there. The guards and the carpenters will already be at the wall, I assume they have somewhere to fall back to if the wall really does fall, so that's a good number of the people already not in the church. It won't be comfortable but there should be room for most of the people in the city.”

Yet again the Father gave him a doubtful look. “You think the people will come out of their homes when they realize the sun hasn't come up?”

That was true but what choice was there? “We'll have to tell the people the truth and-”

“Are you out of your mind?” Father Burns demanded, standing abruptly. “The people will riot, we'll lose control of the entire city if we tell them.”

Michael scowled at him. “Just like you'd lose control of the people if they were allowed contraband, right?”

“Michael,” the word felt wrong on his lips but he spit it out all the same, “this is not a bit of wine or cocoa or even opium, this is telling them they could very well die.”

Now Michael was standing too. “The people could very well die tomorrow or tonight if the wall falls. What I'm offering them is a way to possibly stop that fear once and for all. We have more to lose by keeping them in the dark than by telling them what they need to hear.”

They stared each other down just as they had the last time they had spoken of the gods. Once more Father Burns had faltered. He gave one more deep sigh before nodding. “We'll call for the town to gather before night fall, you-”

“That's another thing.” Michael cut him off, suddenly something in him felt powerful and sure of itself. “No more of this stupid fucking curfew. It doesn't help anyone and the guards around town should be focused on fighting the monsters, not the people.”

“Wha- who do think you are exactly? The curfew-”

“Is pointless!” He snapped at him. “The only point it could have is to control the people. It doesn't help them and at this point that control can't be helping you much either. Show you trust your people and they'll fall in line easier for you _and_ it will allow you to put more people on the wall rather than patrolling the town.”

“I... fine.” The father gave up. “It could soften the blow of the announcement and the Heavens know that no one has been very happy since the curfew began..”

Michael nodded before looking at the bottle in his hand. “And one more thing.”

Father Burns pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an exhausted groan. “What more could you possibly want?”

“No more contraband.” He told him. "From now on, it's all or none."

If Michael had ever seen someone look so livid he couldn't possibly recall when. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Father Burns demanded. “You hate me that much? You're going to take the only thing that's getting me through the day to spite me?”

“No, what I'm doing is giving you permission to drink it without fear.” Michael told him. “Starting now, there will be no more bans on what people can eat and drink or you and the rest of the church are going to enjoy sobriety.”

“Are you out of your mind?” He shouted back at him. “The city will be in chaos, the people will be-”

“Happy,” Michael finished the sentence for him, “maybe for the first time in their whole lives. There are children in this town who don't even know what cocoa is you and me are forced to eat bitter cocoa beans when this could be turned into proper chocolate like the old days. If something goes wrong, you can just blame me but I promise you, the people with be happy.”

Father Burns glared at him. “This is foolish, even for you and you know it.”

He shook his head. “The gods don't care about contraband, they don't want us being imprisoned and killed over it and neither do I. This is for the best.”

“So suddenly your an expert on the gods and what they want?” The father scoffed at him.

Michael shrugged. “Well, apparently I got along with the Trickster, the Brewer, _and_ the Mad One like they were my own brothers and the Red Lady loved me, so I think I did pretty well, even if I did piss them off.”

“The Red Lady... loved you? You did say that before, didn't you, that you broke her heart? Michael, you didn't... the stories aren't true, right?” The older man looked at him with fascination.

“What stories?” He asked baffled. “I only know what you people have been willing to tell me, remember?”

“I don't even know how it started honestly,” Father Burns started, “but a story started going around, that the Warrior had went to the Heavens and had wed the First Daughter.”

That couldn't be right. He had been joking when he said that the other night. Hadn't he?

 _Do you know me now?_ A voice echoed in the back of his mind. _Do you love me still?_

Michael felt himself start to sweat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ I'm married to the Red Lady!”

 _Yes!_ The voice cried, suddenly deafening. _Yes, you remember! Now come home! Let me hold you! Let me love you again!_

Michael gripped his head and screamed. “Stop yelling!” He felt like he would pass out again.

The voice went quiet.

With a ragged breath, Michael looked to the father, who had planted himself firmly against a far wall on the other side of the room. “Sorry,” he gasped, “she got excited.”

The other man looked horrified at him but said nothing.

Michael looked to the wine bottle he still held in his hand. There wasn't much left. “Mind if I finish this?” Father Burns shook his head but didn't move. He threw back the last swallow and placed the bottle on a near by table.

“I'm suddenly feeling very tired.” He told him. “I'm gonna head home and lay down. If I'm not back before you call for the people to gather, just send someone to collect me.”

“We- uh, have spare beds.” The father offered.

Michael only shooked his head no before making his way out the door, still holding his head. All he wanted was to lay down in his own bed.

 _I'm sorry,_ the voice was small and sad, _I didn't mean to. I didn't mean for any of this._

“I know.” He spoke the words out loud, not caring what anyone else thought.

_I still love you._

“I know.”

_I'll wait for you, for forever if I have too._

“I-”

“Hey, Michael, wait up!” A new voice called to him.

He didn't even realize he was at the church's main entrance until that moment. He looked back, to his surprise, to see Ryan standing there.

“Mind if I walk with you?” He asked. “The other three already ditched me while I was in the library.”

Michael could think of a good few reasons why he didn't want to walk with this guy, the least of which being that they didn't really know each other very well. And yet just looking at the man somehow made his head hurt significantly less.

So he shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

All eyes were on them as they watched the two walk out into the street. It wasn't lost to anyone who exactly Ryan was around town, a dealer in the illegal and morally reprehensible. More still, it was even harder to miss the fact that the young merchant had called the Warrior's forbidden name and had suffered no consequence. At least none yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was finished far sooner than I thought it would be and turned out so long! I guess I decided I didn't want to wait another half a year to get another chapter out. No promises for the next chapter, sadly.
> 
> I'm trying really had not to get my lore mixed up with Sky Factory lore because that's just gonna make this story nonsense at that point. So sadly Geoff will not be getting any chickens, no matter how much I want to give him some now.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's left comments and kudos, it really has motivated me to keep writing. I'm sorry of typos. I keep ending up writing and editing this thing when it's late or I'm so tired I can barely see straight.


	10. Friends

There was an uncomfortable feeling to walking down the empty streets. Michael still wasn't sure where everyone had gone. The days before the streets had been significantly more crowded, even in the early mornings. At the very least it made him less nervous to be walking with Ryan but he worried, both about the lack of people and the fact that the Ramseys were apparently notoriously untrusted around town.

Though to be honest, when Ryan had asked to walk with him, Michael hadn't expected the two of them would walk together very far. He assumed that it was meant to make their trip more believable and at some point Ryan would split off and head home. Not for a moment did he assume the other man was actually following him home. At least, not until he saw his house drawing near, which meant they were entirely on the opposite side of the city to the Ramsey's home.

He wondered if Ryan wanted to say something to him and just didn't want to do it in the street. Had he seen the way he looked at Lindsay perhaps? Michael couldn't very well blame him if he decided to tell him to back off. After all, Michael had just remembered that he was a married man, to possibly the most jealous lover he could have taken in all the Heavens.

And how could he love a human more than a goddess? He didn't know and yet the thought of Lindsay smiling at him still gave him butterflies. Love was a tricky thing, there was a god or goddess out there somewhere, he was fairly sure, who handled that mess. He couldn't help but wonder if they had met in his time in the Heavens. If he ever made it back, they'd need to have words.

“Can I ask you a question?” The words were casually asked but they almost startled Michael.

Mere feet from his front Ryan had given him a sheepish look. Oh gods, this really was about Lindsay, wasn't it?

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” He told him, fiddling with the handle to let them in. Michael didn’t look at him as he lead him inside, only waited for the other man's accusation. Gods, could he even bring himself to deny what he was feeling if he was accused?

“This gonna sound really dumb,” Ryan admitted, “but... do you think we could be friends?”

Michael's heart was pounding when he heard the question and it only got faster as confusion set in.

Friends? What kind of question was that? That was the kind of question young boys asked each other when they met for the first time, not a couple of grown men. What kind of lonely loser asked something like that? Was he being genuine, was he trying to confuse him?

He turned to look at the other man. Even though Ryan was taller than him, he looked very same standing there in the open door frame. His expression was like that of an awkward child, talking to a stranger for the first time. Michael gave him a baffled look and watched his face turn red. Something told him Ryan never really learned how to make friends growing up. If he grew up living anything like he did now, he guessed it made sense. A family the move contraband would be wary of bringing strangers around and kids often don’t realize when to shut their mouths about secrets. That would have made for a very lonely childhood.

“It's just, well, it's not easy making friends around here.” Ryan explained before he could even ask the questions buzzing around in his head. “I come from a place with different customs, from a family with more than it's fair share of wealth, and it's hardly a secret around town what I do for a living.”

“I imagine it must be rough for you.” Michael admitted, just as he had thought. “Not to mention how wary the people around town can be of new comers. You'd be lucky to get people to make eye contact with you in the first few months around here.”

“Yeah, but... all those things are true for Gavin and Jeremy too.” He explained further. “There's as much strangers here as I am and yet everyone likes them.”

 _Including you._ A voice in the back of his mind told him.

He couldn't help but feel sad. Something in the back of his mind told him they already were friends, so just say yes. And yet, he couldn't with a good conscience call Ryan his friend when he was harboring impure thoughts about his wife.

Michael sighed. He did want to get to know Ryan better, hells, he wanted to get to know all the Ramseys better but he couldn't go forward without clearing the field of his wrong doings. “Ryan, I- can actually ask you something?”

Ryan gave a faint smile that hurt his heart to see. It was like he already thought he was being rejected.

“Of course.” He answered with the same sad smile.

“I just wanted to ask... about you and Lindsay.” He needed to understand, he had decided. He could never be anything to Lindsay at this point, he knew that, the Red Lady even still called to him in the back of his mind. He was already promised to another, so he could never betray her love, so instead he just needed to know what exactly it was that was going on between the two of them. Maybe once it was out in the open and he stopped foolishly feeling like there was a glimmer of hope, he could let it go.

“Me and Lindsay?” Ryan had parroted him. “About what?”

“Well, everything I keep hearing and seeing about you two, it seems like you hate each other.” He admitted. “I was just wondering what was up with that?”

“What?” Ryan sounded genuinely surprised to hear this. “Who told you that?”

He shrugged. “Geoff when we first met. Lindsay kinda implied it this morning too.”

“But-” he looked away from him, “I thought we were doing better. We having fought once since we got to the city. I've been waking up before the sunrise to help with the animals, I learned how to milk the cows even, and she's been staying up late to help me count the till at the end of the day. We're agreeing on things like we used to when we were young, before the twin, I just... I thought-”

“Hey, okay,” Michael threw his hands up and tried to ease his worries, “maybe I just don't understand how you two get along. Maybe I'm seeing things like you two not sharing a room and assuming I understand what's going on. I'm sorry, really.”

Ryan looked surprised at him. “Why would we share a room?”

Seriously? He had to ask? “Well, I don’t know, maybe this is just another rich people things I don't understand but like, Ray and Jack and I have been sharing the same bed for years and nothing's even been going on their, so maybe I really don't get it. But Geoff and Griffon share a room and Gavin and Jeremy do too. I just can't rap my head around it. You know?”

“Not really,” he admitted, “I don't really know anything about you're circumstance and the twins have always been inseparable. They could have their own rooms if they wanted, they just don't want to be apart. And Geoff and Griffon are different, they're married. It would be inappropriate to share a room with Lindsay.”

“Wait, what?” Suddenly every piece of this puzzle made even less sense to him. Did Ryan just imply that he _wasn't_ married to Lindsay?

“Well, I can't imagine you'd share a bed with your sister.” Ryan said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait, what the fuck?” He demanded. “Are you telling me Lindsay _isn't your wife?”_

The revolted look Ryan gave him made the answer clear enough but he answered all the same. “Of course not! Why would you ever think she was?”

“I don't know!” He snapped at him. “Because Geoff said she's been upset since she got married and he wasn't getting along with you and you call him Geoff and you're the only other man I've met that's associated with her besides the twins!”

Ryan looked shocked. “He... told you about her marriage?”

Michael shrugged. “Only that little bit.”

“Well you don't need to worry about him.” He sounded a little bitter then. “Not long after they were married he ran off to be with... someone else.”

“Shit, I didn-”

Ryan stopped him before he could go on. “No, I get it. You saw something strange and you thought something was wrong. Maybe even that I had done something wrong to Lindsay. I get it.”

“I shouldn't have assumed, let alone asked, I'm sorry.” He apologized.

“We all really liked him too.” Ryan went on. “He made mischief with the twin, talked books with Geoff, treated Lindsay like she was only woman in the whole world, and he even tried to help me with my work. And then he just... left.”

“I'm sorry.” Michael repeated but this time it felt like so much more. It felt like he could cry but he didn't know why. “I… I don’t meant to make this weird, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, no, if anyone made this weird, it was me.” Ryan insisted. “Asking to be friends, gods, I feel like a fool.”

“Don’t be like that, of course we can be friends, don’t be dumb.” He told him. “How about we both agree not to be weird about any of this anymore and start back over.”

Ryan gave a smile. “Sure why not… so does this mean you’re actually going to talk to Lindsay like a normal person now?”

“W- I don’t… what?”

Ryan chuckled just a bit. “I’m just saying, now that don’t think she’s married anymore, you can stop looking longingly at her and actually make a more.”

“Hey, what did I just say about making things weird.” He snapped at him but Ryan only laughed back.

“Okay, okay, I should probably get going anyway. Before I do, though.” Ryan pulled out his coin purse, spilling a handful of coins into his palm. “Five silver for an escort seems fair, don’t you think?”

Oh, he was actually paying him? He hadn’t expected this. He gave a baffled “sure” before the coins were handed over.

Ryan exited as quickly as he had arrived, leaving Michael alone with his thoughts and a headache that demanded he rested. He obeyed and laid down for a much needed sleep.

 _Do you love her now?_ A small voice asked him. _Now that you know you can have her?_

“No.” He told the voice as he closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. “I love _you_ , I married _you_ , I promised myself _you and you alone_ , and I keep my promises, dammit.”

_Come back to me, please._

“I will, just as soon a fix what you idiots fucked up.” He mumbled, slipping off to sleep.

~BREAK~

People called the Heavens endless but they were wrong. The Heavens were a vast, shapeless mass that seemed to go on forever but it didn’t. There was a spot in reality where the Heavens ended and the realm of man began. Between his experiments with Mad, his games with the Twins, and his private times with Red, Michael would often find his way to this spot, where he would find the Father of things.

Like most gods, he had no one shape. His avatar was ever changing between any number of forms. One moment he was the green star, another he was just a mess of colors, and yet another he looked almost like Michael's own father before he would immediately shift again. Red had once told him that the Father could take the shape of any father, for this was his greatest nature, so most mortals might see their own father’s face upon seeing him.

For his part, Michael still struggled his avatar. The other gods had many forms, to the point that being one thing at a time was very hard for them. To be only one thing in the Heavens was hard, sometimes even painful. Michael, on the other hand, was struggling to be more than just a human in this place of gods. He felt as though his bones would break and his skin would tear from the impossibility of this place. His every action had to be slow and careful until his avatar finally adjusted to the ways of the Heavens.

It made journeying to this place difficult but to sit beside the Father was more than worth it. So when he approached the Father, be did so with slow, yet deliberate steps.

The Father looked over creation often. He sported eyes that were tired yet so full of love for the reality he had created. But he also had a secret that none of the first children realized. Loneliness. Their Father was so lonely and only Michael seemed to see it.

“Father?” He spoke only to make him aware of his presence before taking a seat beside him. A bone cracked and mended all in the same second and pain came and went just as swift. It was maddening to think he could be growing used to such a thing and yet he thought nothing of it in less than a moment.

He looked to the world below. He could see so many things all at once. It gave him a headache and threatened to make him pass out, just like he had many times over when he had gazed down at the world. His gaze shifted to the Father, an easier site, and he smiled at him.

“Who are you looking at this time?” He teased a bit.

 _She’s perfect._ He sighed. His voice echoed, coursing through Michael’s whole body like a surge of electricity.

Michael laughed. “So was the last one and the one before that and the one before that was a dude but he was still perfect too.”

 _They’re all perfect._ The Father leaned a little farther over the edge to look at whoever his eyes were fixed on this time. _They’re so tiny, so flawed. I could wipe them all out and start over from the very beginning if I wanted to and yet they still go on. Some even doubt my presence._ _She doubts me even now_ _. They’re just… so perfect. What I’d give to be so tiny, to be something all my own and not shaped by the ideas of who I should be, just for a little while._

“So what are you still doing here?” Michael asked him seriously.

 _I must be here, to hear the prayers of my believers._ He lamented.

“The other’s leave the Heavens all the time.” He reminded him. “Why do you have to suffer when everyone else gets to have fun? Go on, fuck around a little while and when you’re ready, you can come back home.”

_But if something happens, if something goes wrong-_

“Then the first children will be right here to fix it,” Michael insisted, “and I’ll be there to keep them in line. Go on, get. Find that girl you’re looking at, get to know her, just be tiny for a while. We’ll all still be here when you get back.”

The Father’s shape great what resembled a face, giving a faint smile and looking back over the edge. _You’re too good to us, Michael._

His face twisted a bit. “You still do that.”

_Hm?_

“You still call me Michael.” He went on. “The others don’t do that anymore. They’ve called me by the title you gave me from the very beginning but you don’t. I don’t think you ever have, beyond that first time.”

_The longer you stay here, the harder it will become for you to remember who you were before. Once you forget all of it, you can never go back. If I had stopped calling you by you’re name, you surely would have long since forgotten your time among the humans._

Michael shrugged. “That’s fine. I can barely remember anything anyways and it’s not like I’m going back. I have everything I could ever want, right here.”

_Everything?_

“I have the First Born and we play our games, I have the younger gods who still remember the world from when it was young, I have my beloved with whom I will share eternity, and we all have you, our Father who loves us all unconditionally. What more is there to want?”

_Your village? Your friends? The ones you grew up with. Have you tried to look to them, to see if they’re well without you? Do you even remember their names? Their faces? I wonder._

Michael wanted to protest. What friends? He didn’t have any friends that weren’t the gods, that was why he had left humanity behind… wasn’t it?

 _Michael, remember your name._ The Father told him. _Without me around, it will be harder but you have to remember or you’ll lose that part of myself forever. And remember, the only way you’ll ever get back is to find something to hold onto. A name, a face, a voice, it doesn’t matter, it just needs to be one thing._

Michael was confused. What was he talking about? He wasn’t going anywhere and when would the Father ever leave long enough that he would forget his name?

And then the Father faded and in that moment all of the Heavens felt just a little bit empty. The darkness of the sky was a little less dark, the comfort of the Father’s embrace was no longer there. Michael felt alone and already he felt the memory of his name growing fuzzy.

What had they been talking about?

~BREAK~

Michael's eyes opened instantly. The knock at the door wasn’t very loud and yet it felt as though someone had rung a gong right beside his head. He looked out the window, it would be very soon, which meant it was time to gather at the church.

Suddenly he regretted insisting the gathering be that night.

“W-warrior?” A trepid voice called from the other side of the door. “M-my Lord, I was... ah- I-I was sent to call for you from Father Burns… f-for the gathering you called for. He, of course he wouldn’t be so bold as to think-”

“Oh gods, shut up.” He groaned. “I’m coming.”

It was easy to forget that this was his life now. He was a god and these people wouldn’t let him forget it, no matter how much he wished he could.

Shifting, he climbed out of bed but as he did, something brushed his leg as he stood. His sword, right beside him in bed, laid there as though to mock him. This hadn’t been there when he laid down, he would have remembered it, surely.

“Are you playing games with me Trickster?” He asked with a crooked smile. “Will I remove this from it’s sheath to see it made of paper or cheese?”

A familiar giggle chirped in the back of his mind as he picked the blade up. It was lighter than when it was stone but surely not enough to be something flimsy like paper. Perhaps he had made it a hunk of wood? With a laugh he unsheathed the blade to get a good look at this new prank but he hardly expected what he saw.

The blade was blue and gave off a faint purple glow. His mouth hung open in awe. This… this was a diamond blade but not simply that, this blade was enchanted with some great unknown charm. It felt impossible but so very right to hold. This was his, the Father had once put this blade in his hands and told him his purpose but… gods! Why could he not remember more?

“Uh, my Lord?” The voice on the other side of the door spoke again.

He sighed. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

He resheathed the sword. This would have too wait for later, for now he had to get to the church. Even if he still felt unsure, his people still needed guidance and he was the one who had to give it.

Gods… what a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I've been working so much that I don't have a lot of time to write.
> 
> Truth be told, I rewrote several parts of this chapter because I didn't like how it was working out. I finally decided I had to just let it be or it was never going to get done.
> 
> As always, I apologize for spelling errors and poor grammar. I'm not sure if I've disclosed this before but I'm dyslexic, which can make all of this a little difficult.
> 
> I have no idea when my next chapter will be out but I may or may not end up working on another work soon. I have more ideas than I do time, sadly.

**Author's Note:**

> So would you believe I started this way back before Matt and Jeremy were even part of company? Yeah, that's true. In case you couldn't tell, this story went though many revisions and the biggest thing was replacing the fifth god with Lil' J. It was originally Barbara but it felt out of place because the Achievement Hunters were meant to be the main focus.
> 
> So on a side note, a thing I tend to do is start a work and if it has more than one chapter I write several chapters and only post it if I actually think I'll keep writing it. I have a good number of chapters of this but it always felt off to me so I've been editing it for literal years now. I won't claim that it's the best it could be and it's probably suffering from a lot of things I was worse at writing a few years ago but I hope it's okay.
> 
> I don't know when the next chapter will come, I guess we'll see what happens.
> 
> Sorry for typos that I somehow managed to miss after years of writing.


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